


Simple Life

by W4nderingStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But Gabe did, Estranged Relationship, Feels, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jack never became Strike-Commander, Jack retired, M/M, bottom gabe, farmer au, goin' on up to the barn loft, if you catch my drift, nothing too explicit but I put the warning at teen for it, porn with too many feelings, some blood and surgery, takin' a roll in the hay, thirsty boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:24:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar
Summary: One warm night, Jack's quiet life is shattered by a visitor that crash lands in his field.(Mature tag only applies to chapter 9. 1-8 are all rated T)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baa~ack!
> 
> This is a AU of an AU of mine. I know, I know, but I couldn't resist. But it CAN be read as a stand alone. 
> 
> For anyone who's read my story Tarnished Reflections, this story is a "What if Jack never took Gabe up on his offer to run Blackwatch?"
> 
> The amazingly talented and awesome Annie_Drew whipped up some more amazing art! It's from chapter 9 but no spoilers! https://animegirldrawer.tumblr.com/post/180339793203/just-had-to-doodle-from-the-latest-simple-life

 

 

 

 

Billions of stars glittered in the sky. Corn stalks rustled in the gentle breeze. The porch swing rocked back and forth. Jack leaned back, one leg up on the swing, one foot on the smooth wood of the porch. 

 

It was a lovely night. Peaceful. Quiet. Everything he wanted. He twisted off the cap of the whiskey bottle and took another long pull. 

 

The cows would be up at daybreak. The chickens right after them with that damn rooster crowing before sunrise. Jack shouldn’t have bought that damn nuisance, but he couldn’t stand to see it go to slaughter. 

 

There were still plenty of weeks before the harvest needed to come in. Maybe he should call his folks and see how they were. Not that he’d have much to say. It’d been about the same every day for decades. He took another pull from the bottle, letting the amber liquid warm him up. Not that it was cold. Snow wouldn’t set in for a good while yet. 

 

He put his head back against the swing and closed his eyes. He should be happy. This was everything he wanted. Well… not  _ everything _ he wanted. 

 

Something just on the edge of hearing assaulted his ears. It hummed in the back of his head, like an irritating mosquito. What the hell? The intensity grew, morphing into the sound of a whining engine. Plane? Sure as hell wasn’t a truck. Jack set the whiskey aside and stood, going to the edge of the porch. 

 

Looking up at the sky revealed nothing, but the sound grew. Jack closed his eyes, trying to zero in on what direction the noise was coming from. He glanced right. A black streak blotted out stars as it slashed its way across the sky. No lights. Not good. 

 

“Please just be passing through,” Jack muttered as the streak seemed to descend too sharply for comfort. 

 

A ball of orange erupted from it, flickering like a fire. The whining increased. 

 

Jack rubbed his five o’clock shadow. “Keep going,” he muttered, tracking the now fiery streak of black. “Just keep going. Do me a favor and crash two counties over.” 

 

The plane took a dive. Jack grimaced as it went down in his back forty. He rubbed his palms over his face as he heard the plane skip-stoning across the earth, tearing up his field. At least there was no— 

 

A boom split the air. 

 

—explosion. He sighed. Of course it had gone down in the crops. It couldn’t have gone down in the fallow field four acres over. If the corn burned, it’d be an entire year’s profits and hard work up in flames. God help him if it destroyed the house. He could survive financially if the crops burned, but not if the house did. 

 

He took a deep breath and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Guess he better get out there and see if anyone survived. He went inside the house, to his room, got out the old pulse rifle from its trunk, and loaded it. With everything going on in the world, it never hurt to be prepared. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, he walked out to the pickup and got in. 

 

“If this isn’t the start to every bad horror movie ever,” he grumbled, starting up the truck and putting it in gear. 

 

A silent ten minute ride later had him in the torn up field. So far, he hadn’t seen any fire, but the evidence of the crash was everywhere. Crushed stalks, deep gashes in the ground, dirt thrown everywhere. Jack parked the truck and got out. 

 

“Goddamn.”  

 

The main destruction was a long, wide swath of smoldering dirt. Jack held his pulse rifle at the ready, finger beside the trigger, and followed the carnage. He should be worried that the pilot and passengers were dead, or that something was about to explode. But all he could think about was what a pain it was going to be to clean up this wreck and get the field in growing order. Guess he was already a cantankerous old man at fifty. When had his caring spirit died?

 

After several dozen yards, he found the source of his ruined night. It was a plane, painted black, with its wings angled forward and a nose that hooked down. Oh great. It wasn’t commercial or private. Meaning it was military. Meaning the army wasn’t going to be long behind. Great. He thought he was done dealing with the military. 

 

The cockpit hissed and cracked open. Jack snapped up his rifle.

 

“If anyone is alive in there,” he shouted. “Come out with your hands where I can see them.” 

 

The cockpit rolled back and a figure appeared. Jack’s sights locked onto its chest with reflexes time hadn’t diminished. 

 

“Hands, stranger. Let’s see ‘em.” 

 

The figure dipped, half-falling, half-staggering out of the cockpit to the ground. It pushed itself up and hobbled closer. In the light of the far off headlights of the truck, the figure came into view. 

 

They were clad in black body armor and a long, black coat. One hand gripped their side. Something wet seeped through the silver claws of their gauntlet. A bone-white mask peered at him from the shadow of a hood. 

 

Not military. Talon. Jack put his finger on the trigger. “Don’t take step closer,” he ordered. “Or you won’t live to take a second.” 

 

“Thought midwesterners were hospitable,” came a distorted voice from the stranger. 

 

“Not to terrorists, Talon scum.” 

 

“Scum? Really? You’re still awful at name calling.” The Talon agent stepped forward. 

 

Jack blasted the dirt an inch in front of the silver boots. “Take another step and lose your knees.” 

 

The Talon agent reached up. The claws hooked into the eye slits and pulled the mask off. Jack’s eyes widened. No. No, hell no. This was  _ not _ happening. 

 

Gabriel Reyes smiled at him. “Long time no see, Jack.” 

 

Jack adjusted his sights and fired. The mask exploded out of Gabriel’s hand. The bastard had the nerve to look surprised. 

 

“Get back in your goddamn plane and get off my land,” Jack ordered, “or your face is next.” 

 

Gabe dropped his hand to his side. “If you want to kill me, you’d better hurry.” He sank to his knees, then dropped to the ground. 

 

What the fuck? Was it a ploy or—Even if it was, Jack knew he couldn’t ignore him. He tossed the rifle aside and hurried over. He felt Gabe’s neck for breaks. Didn’t seem like it was broken. Even if it was, he didn’t have anything to brace it with. Carefully, he rolled Gabe onto his back. He pushed back the dumb hood and checked his head for trauma. Didn’t look busted. Guess his thick skull was good for something. Damn him. The bastard hadn’t aged a day since the last time they saw each other.  

 

A careful inspection of the rest of him revealed large lacerations in his side and abdomen. Several other smaller, non-life threatening injuries, and an assortment of bullets in various, non-lethal places. 

 

“You son of a bitch,” Jack growled, scooping up the heavy bastard. He trudged back toward the truck.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter Two

 

 

 

_ This wasn’t part of the plan. But when had anything ever gone to plan? The Slipstream needed longitude and latitude to make a jump. There was only one set he knew by heart. It was going to have to do. He fought with the stick to keep the plane steady and punched in the numbers into the computer. _

 

Everything hurt. Gabe groaned. Even the slightest movement triggered bone deep aches. Maybe the crash had finally killed him. If that was the case, Hell smelled a lot like coffee and bacon. His eyes fluttered open. 

 

A plain, white ceiling swam into view. Slowly, his sight focused. He raised a hand. His shoulder burned, and his left wrist felt like there were shards of glass embedded in it. His hand was bandaged, elbow wrapped with gauze. The rest of him was probably patched up as well. Seemed like he’d crashed in the right place. 

 

He tried to push himself up, but a sharp pain in his side put a stop to his attempt. Shit. Was he already so old he couldn’t take a few stab wounds? He closed his eyes. There were already gray hairs, stiff joints in the morning, war wounds acting up. And with his body breaking down, he had to face the man that knew him best. This was… probably not going to go well. The sizzling stopped. A moment later, a door creaked open. 

 

Gabe opened his eyes and turned his head. Jack, handsome as ever, walked toward him. Gabe smiled. Jack’s expression didn’t change. He set down a plate of bacon, a mug of coffee, pulled a phone from his pocket and tossed it down beside the coffee.

 

“Call whoever you need to call. I don’t care if it’s Overwatch, Talon, or the UN. Call them and get out of my house.” 

 

Gabe tired to push himself up again. “I can explain.”

 

Jack put up his hand. “Don’t care.” He turned on his heel and left, grabbing a jacket off a hook and closing the front door behind him. 

 

Yeah, that went as poorly as predicted. Groaning, Gabe rolled over, groping for the food. He couldn't remember the last time he ate anything of substance. He stuffed a fist full of bacon in his mouth. Soggy, rubbery, disgusting. Guess Jack didn’t remember how he liked it. With a grimace, he grabbed the coffee. Black, the way he liked it. Jack remembered that. He took a sip. Weak as water with enough sugar to kill a bull.  

Oh, Jack remembered just fine how Gabe took his coffee and bacon, then deliberately made the opposite. Gabe deserved it. Landing an experimental plane in Jack’s field warranted a lifetime of nothing but weak coffee and soggy bacon. He’d crashed, literally, back into his life unannounced in the dead of night. 

 

Laying around wouldn’t help the healing. He choked down the bacon and coffee, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

 

He took in his surroundings. Jack’s house was nice. It was floored with warm, cherry wood with matching walls. A handsome stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the room with the charred remains of a few logs inside it. Blue and white checkerboard curtains framed square, open windows. The whole thing had a rustic charm that mirrored Jack’s own. 

 

Gabe forced himself to stand. His vision wavered for a moment. When it passed, his side ached. After that, his knees started shaking. One thing after another. Old age was catching up to him. He wrapped his arm around his abdomen and shuffled forward. This might be the only time he got to see the inside of Jack’s place. 

 

There were several wooden end tables and cabinets that looked handmade. Cow and chicken knick-knack decorations were artfully placed around the living room. Vases made of old milk jugs and mason jars sported bunches of sunflowers. Fitting. Gabe wandered from the living room to the dining room. A large oak table with a half dozen chairs were the focal point of the room. Large windows let in plenty of light. Gabe wondered how many gatherings Jack had hosted, this table crammed with friends and loved ones. He pushed those thoughts aside and headed into the kitchen. 

 

It was just as handsome and charming as the rest of the house. A large island decorated with sunflowers in watering cans divided the spacious room. He ran his hands along the cool surface. Raw silk granite. Nice. Very nice. Matched the house well. Blue and white towels sat neatly in decorative cubbies on the wall. The stainless-steel sink was sleek and modern, as were the other appliances. Rustic and futuristic blended together seamlessly. Cozy. 

 

The large fridge prompted him to seek something more filling than a few soggy strips of bacon. He opened the fridge. Tomatoes, raw meat, carton of eggs, onions, milk, juice, a few different cheeses. Nothing that looked like leftovers he could reheat easily. He closed the fridge and went to the pantry. 

 

A small army of bottles greeted him. He stared, trying to process what the hell Jack would need twenty, thirty, more, bottles of assorted liquors for. Parties and get togethers. He hoped. Closing the pantry, he went back to the fridge. 

 

It took more effort with a cut up side, but he managed to make himself some scrambled eggs. He ate over the sink and rinsed the dishes, sticking them in the dishwasher when he finished. With some substantial food, he felt stronger. His side still ached. Damn Talon grunts. Not good for much, but they got in some lucky shots every now and then. He wandered out of the kitchen, back to the living room.

 

He found a staircase he failed to notice before that led up to a second floor. The effort it would take to climb those seemed like too much. Maybe he’d get another chance later to explore. He turned to go lay back down when a picture caught his eye. He shuffled closer to the stairs and found a dozen or so framed pictures on the wall. 

 

The first picture was of a seven-year old Jack on horseback—or rather, ponyback—with his mother and father astride big horses behind him. John and Sarah smiled and waved at the camera. The next picture was a middle school Jack behind the wheel of a tractor, John teaching him how to drive. Both of them looked fed up with each other. Sarah had probably been laughing her ass off watching those two hard-headed idiots try to work together. Another photo was Jack graduating from high school, holding a diploma, his parents at his side, looking proud. 

 

Then the pictures time jumped to an adult Jack, the scars from the war marring his face, standing outside this very house. Another showed Jack building something, maybe that barn Gabe had seen in the satellite photos. Lena and Jack standing together, holding a burnt to hell turkey on a platter. Lena looked like she’d been laughing so hard she’d cried, while Jack flashed the camera a thumbs up and a smile. 

 

The largest picture was of the whole team, Lena, Ana and a middle school aged Fareeha, Reinhardt, Torbjörn with his wife and—at the time, five—kids. Angela, Gérard and Amélie. Even Winston was there. Gabe wondered if Jesse and Genji had been invited, but didn’t go. The only other person that was missing was himself. 

 

He glanced at the rest of the photos. There were no pictures of Jack from after high school to his retirement. It was like that time in his life didn’t exist. It was just forgotten and glossed over. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it still hurt. The strength he’d felt before drained out of him. Shuffling back to the couch, he laid down and closed his eyes. 

  
  


A door slam woke him with a start. Gabe’s eyes flew open, his mind racing. He sat up too quickly. Pain lanced through his side like he was getting knifed again. He groaned and collapsed back to the couch, panting. 

 

Footsteps came closer. He cracked his eyes open. 

 

“Did you call?” Jack asked. 

 

“This might surprise you,” Gabe forced himself to say. “But I don’t exactly have many friends.” 

 

Jack said nothing and walked away, heading for the kitchen. Gabe let out a long breath and relaxed against the couch. He drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes hearing chopping, sometimes the ding of a bell as his mind wandered. 

  
  


Something pounded on wood close to his head. Gabe started awake again. A coffee table had been moved beside his couch A small orange and white bottle sat a few inches from his nose. He blinked, sluggishly trying to process. 

 

“Take three for the pain,” Jack said, setting down a plate of food and a glass of water. “If you’re not gone by the morning, I’ll change your bandages.” 

 

He turned his back to Gabe and headed for the stairs, grabbing a large bottle of whiskey from beside one of the bunches of sunflowers. 

 

“Hey,” Gabe croaked. 

 

Jack paused. 

 

“Can we talk? Please?” 

 

“Set one foot on these stairs and I’ll shoot you.” He continued out of the room and up the stairs, cracking the seal on the bottle as he disappeared. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone needs me, I'll be over here, trying to tape my heart together.


	3. Chapter Three

 

 

Jack woke, groggy, angry, and far later than the usual oh-five-hundred. “Fuck,” he muttered.

 

Stretching, his hand knocked into the whiskey bottle. He grabbed it and put it on the nightstand beside the other empties. He forced himself up and into the shower. Even over the water, he could hear the cows’ lowing. Shit. They were going to be pissed all day now. Goddamn Gabriel, throwing him off his routine.

 

Showered, dried, and dressed in record time, he hurried downstairs. Gabriel was still passed out on the couch. The food was gone, the glass of water mostly empty. He finally looked asleep. Hopefully the pills dulled his pain enough that he’d get the hell out before Jack broke. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold onto his anger. Jack snorted and grabbed his jacket from its hook by the door. There were more pressing matters to attend to. He left the house in a hurry, jogging over to the barn. It was an echo chamber of lowing by three very angry, very full, cows.

 

“Sorry darlings,” Jack said, getting the bucket and stool. “It was a rough night.” 

 

He fell back into his routine quickly, working his way through his little herd. He had to strain the milk quick. A lot more ended up going to the chickens than usual. Oh well. The girls got their hay and alfalfa. That seemed to stop their betrayed looks. The moment he was done with the cows, that goddamn rooster started making a nuisance of himself, crowing up a storm. Well, he was crowing by the front room window. Maybe Jack would let the damn bird live until it was done driving Gabriel up a wall. 

 

The chicken coop was the next stop. He entered into a world of angry clucks and feathers. The half dozen hens hounded his steps, angrily pecking at his ankles. 

 

“I know, I know,” he said, unlocking the feed bin, filling a bucket with grain and seeds. “You’re hungry. Nearly twenty years of being on time and after only one day of being late, I’m the bad guy.” 

 

He walked outside, scattering the feed on the ground for them. He poured the ruined milk into a dish. The feathered beasts lunged and went to a frenzy to get to it. Jack left them to their pecking order and went back in the coop. He picked up a basket. A quick search of the nests turned up a handful of colorful eggs. The green and blue shells his Easter Eggers laid had long ago had lost its novelty for him, but it was fun to show them off to company. He wondered if city boy Gabriel knew eggs came in different colors. Shaking his head, Jack left the coop. Why was he still thinking about Gabriel? More chores should get him thinking straight. He went to the garden. 

 

No new weeds seemed to have sprung up. The green onions looked ready to pull. He got down on his knees and tugged out the first. Yep, ready. He pulled the rest, brushing off the excess dirt and putting them in the basket with the eggs. 

 

His stomach growled. He should eat before he tackled fixing the fences. And he really shouldn’t put off looking at Gabriel’s wounds. Those lacerations had been deep and needed stitches. He should check and make sure they weren’t infected. But he didn’t want to be in a room for an extended period of time with him. It would just end in shouting. Or worse, he could end up forgiving him and set himself up to be hurt all over again.

 

No sense putting it off. He could gather his courage while making breakfast. Trudging back inside the house, he hung up his jacket, shucked off his boots, and pretended he didn’t see Gabriel sitting on his couch. Ignoring his  _ guest _ , Jack went to the kitchen. 

 

Putting the onions in the sink to wash, he stored the eggs in the fridge and got out a pack of sausages. A few sausages might be good enough for him, but he had a wounded super soldier to feed. He got out a loaf of bread and put a few pieces in the toaster. Back into the fridge he went, getting the fresh butter he’d made and a jar of the apple preserves he’d canned last fall. There were some country potatoes he could fry up in the sausage grease. That should be filling enough. He turned back around to find Gabriel sitting on a barstool across the island from him. 

 

So much for some time to gather his courage. 

 

“You should be laying down,” he said, not looking at the other as he got out a pan and put it on the stove. 

 

After he set the sausages into cook, he twisted off the lid to the preserves and got out a butter knife. He pushed them toward Gabe without making eye contact and went back to the sausages. He rolled them around the pan as they started to sizzle. The toast popped. Jack added the potato chunks to soak up the grease before going to the toaster, taking out the ready slices and adding more. 

 

Gabriel said nothing. Jack wasn’t sure if he was upset or glad for the silence. He got down a plate and put the toast on it. He set the plate down and shoved it Gabriel’s way. The silence stretched on as Gabriel picked up the knife and buttered the toast. 

 

“You don’t seemed shocked to see me,” he said. 

 

Jack opened a drawer and pulled out a wooden stirring spoon. “If a collapsing building could kill you, you never would have survived the Crisis.” He stirred the potatoes and flipped the sausages. 

 

“There was an explosion too,” Gabriel said. 

 

If Jack didn’t know him better, he would almost think Gabriel was fishing for something. “You’ve survived bigger explosions. I’ve patched you up from worse training mishaps.” 

 

Gabriel took a bite of toast. Jack deemed the sausages and potatoes done. He got out two large plates and split breakfast between them. He passed Gabriel a fork and got one himself. Picking up his plate, he left the kitchen and went to the dining table to eat alone. 

 

Two bites in and the door opened. Gabriel shuffled into the dining room. Jack resisted the urge to sigh. Gabriel set his plate down and gingerly took a seat beside him. Despite trying not to care, Jack noted that Gabe’s side still seemed to be paining him, even after the pills. 

 

They ate in silence. Gabe quickly polished off every crumb on his plate like it would be taken away at any moment. Jack slowly worked on his. Everything seemed to sit heavy in his stomach and threaten to come back up. 

 

“Well?” Gabe asked, trying for conversation again. 

 

“Well what?” Jack asked, chasing the last bit of potato around his plate. 

 

“You haven’t asked what I’m doing here.” 

 

Jack stood from his chair, picking up his plate and Gabriel’s. “I don’t care.” He walked back to the kitchen and dropped the dishes in the sink, turning on the water and grabbing the sponge. 

 

A few moments later, Gabriel limped in after him, taking up his seat on the stool again. “You don’t even care what I’m doing with Talon?” 

 

Jack pumped more soap than necessary onto the plates and scrubbed. “No.” 

 

“Not even the slightest bit curious?” 

 

Jack slammed the sink handle off, nearly tearing it from the fixture. “Even if I was curious, you wouldn’t tell me.” He would just smile that knowing smile and tell him  _ “don’t worry about it, Jackie. I have it under control.” _ It was infuriating and Jack doubted that had changed. Gabe played everything close to his chest. 

 

“I’ve been dead for seven years, and then I show up, apparently working for a terrorist organization, with an experimental plane, and you don’t want to know why?” 

 

Jack yanked open the dishwasher and stuffed the dishes inside before slamming the door shut. “The only thing I want to know is when you’ll be gone.” He left the kitchen, storming toward the front door. 

 

Gabe’s damn bandages could wait. He was clearly feeling better. Jack left his jacket on the hook and kicked the front door open. There were fences to fix, fields to inspect, pipes to mend. And Gabriel Reyes playing his games wasn’t going to get in the way of Jack living his life. Not a second time. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I would love to write? ONE story where characters are open and honest about their emotions. But every time I try, all the characters recoil and run screaming for the hills. I don't understand.


	4. Chapter Four

 

 

Things… could be going better. Gabe sat at the island, staring at the front door where Jack had disappeared. Jack should know Gabe was bad at this. Interpersonal communication wasn’t his strong suit. That had always been Jack’s specialty.

 

Gabe hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Jack couldn’t even stand to be in the room with him. He could barely tolerate being under the same roof. But then, Gabe had ruined everything between them, so it was understandable. He should go. But… he found he didn’t want to. This felt like home. He felt safe, even if he’d been here less than forty-eight hours. It was far better than the back alley dumps he’d holed up in for years. Leaving felt like losing something precious. 

 

But it wasn’t his to lose. Jack had built this place. Gabe had no business claiming any part of. He’d lost his chance at this a long time ago. He didn’t deserve it. Jack was gone, and Gabe’s chance to fix things had passed. 

 

It had always felt unreal, Jack being gone. Maybe it was the sudden way it happened. Maybe it was because he’d always felt like one day, they’d work things out. But like so many other things, he was dead wrong. Maybe he should have gone after him, confronted him when it happened. But he knew he never would have. Jack had done something so out of character it just….  Gabe rested his arms on the island. Jack hadn’t wanted to see him then and that hadn’t changed. His side throbbed. Absently, he rubbed his aching ribs. 

 

When he’d punched in these coordinates, it’d been a spur of the moment decision. He hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t weighed the options, just done it. All he’d thought at the time was: maybe Jack would stop the bleeding, and, it would be the last place anyone would look for an experimental, time-traveling jet. 

 

This was what happened when he didn’t have a plan. Things fell apart before they ever started. He didn’t know how to mend the rift with Jack. There was no strategy to work through their issues. Hell, he didn’t even have an exit strategy for getting out of here. 

 

Overwatch was disbanded. He had faked his death rather convincingly. The UN was corrupt. Talon? Well, he guessed they weren’t going to be very welcoming since they were the ones who slashed him open in the first place. 

 

Nothing. He had nothing and no one. An inglorious end he’d inflicted on himself. 

 

He pushed himself up and hobbled to the kitchen windows. He pulled back the curtains and looked out. 

 

Chickens clucked and wandered about the yard, scratching and pecking at the ground. A large, feathery-legged chicken strutted by the window. It stopped, fluffed up and crowed. So that was the fucker waking him up. Gabe’s fingers itched for his shotguns. The rooster trotted off with another crow. 

 

“That’s right, you better run,” Gabe muttered as the bird disappeared into a barn. 

 

It was a quaint barn, painted blue and white. Gabe watched as the rooster trotted back out and the door swung open. A trio of brown cows lumbered their way out the door, anicet cow bells around their necks ringing as they headed toward a grass filled pasture. On the far side of the cow’s pasture, Gabe found Jack. He was yanking posts out of the ground, and replacing them with new ones, then stringing wire between them. 

 

Standing here felt like stepping out of the world. There was no Second Crisis brewing. No Talon undermining world governments. Hell, it felt like there wasn’t even a world outside this farm. Maybe that’s why Jack liked it here. He could forget everything else. He  _ had _ forgotten everything else it seemed. Forgotten their life before.

 

Gabe couldn’t deny that it was a powerful temptation. There were plenty of things he wished he could forget. Like how he’d let the love of his life slip through his fingers without even noticing. If nothing else, it was a nice to see Jack one last time before some thug landed a lucky shot and finally put Gabe out of his misery. 

 

Letting himself think like that wouldn’t do any good. He needed a distraction. Leaving the window, he went to the fridge to see what he had to work with. He hadn’t cooked in years, but it was something to focus on. It was something nice to do for Jack. He hadn’t done anything nice for Jack probably just as long as he hadn’t cooked. 

 

Deep pot, butter, cheese, corn, black beans, chili powder. He went to the pantry in search of what he needed. The bottles greeted him again. Unease twisted his gut. That much stockpiled alcohol worried him. How long had it been going on? This wasn’t like Jack. Or rather, this wasn’t like the Jack of thirty years ago. Not the bright, smiling young man who wanted to save the world.  _ His _ Jack. 

 

He sighed. Jack wasn’t his anymore. Pushing the bottles aside, he went looking for what he needed. 

  
  


After the soup was set to simmer for a few hours, Gabe wandered toward the stairs. He was covered in dried blood and sweat, more than likely reeked of oil and smoke. A shower would do wonders. If Jack wanted to shoot him for going upstairs, at least Gabe would die clean. 

 

Every stair made pain race up his side and nausea blur his vision. Echos of it wracked his chest as he ascended to the second floor. After leaning against the banister for a long time to catch his breath and let the pain pass, he shoved off, shuffling down the hall in search of the bathroom. 

 

The second floor was just as homey as the first. Curtains, sunflowers, there was even a framed fingerpainting or two of Fareeha’s. Gabe’s heart sank at the pictures of their team that decorated the wall. A beardless, young Jesse looking over the sea. Reinhardt with his long hair. Lena sitting on the front steps of the house, literally covered in chickens. All these moments, he’d missed. He wasn’t in a single photograph.

 

He shouldn’t have come up here. 

 

Opening a pair of folding doors revealed a small laundry room. The black coat hung from a hanger like a wraith. The hole in the side had been neatly stitched closed. His body armor sat on top of the washer, cleaned of blood and dirt. His compression shirt sat folded on top of the dryer, the combat boots placed neatly in the corner. Even the mask was there, poking out of one of the inner pockets of his coat. 

 

Gabe couldn't stand the sight of it. Reaper had been part of him for too long. Everyday, Gabe hated him a little more. The last thing he wanted to do was become him again. He opened the dryer. There were a few pairs of jeans and a couple shirts inside. Well, he and Jack had always been pretty close in size. Anything would be better than donning the Reaper costume. He closed the dryer and retreated. 

 

There were five doors. Gabe felt like an intruder as he opened one. Blue towels, cream and blue rugs, white bed sheets. Jack’s linen closet was immaculately organized. Gabe took a towel and a washcloth and tried the next door. 

 

It was thankfully the bathroom. He slunk inside like he’d done something wrong and closed the door. Stripping off the gauze around his side took him far longer than it should have. Every twist sent shocks through him. It was worse than any wound he remembered. Hell, even some from back in the war weren’t this bad. Only a few years ago, something like this would have been healed by now. Well, he wasn’t a young man anymore.

 

A stubborn piece of gauze refused to let go of his skin. He he tugged. It pulled the flesh and fresh stitches. Gabe doubled over, spitting the remains of breakfast into the sink. He wiped his mouth and turned on the water, washing the vomit down the drain. Maybe he should have let Jack do this. Then again, maybe not. 

 

Gabe had seen first hand what Jack could do with his medical knowledge. He’s watched as Fareeha hardly noticed him giving her a shot, yet a overly harsh, veteran officer broke down into tears not but an hour later in the medbay over the same shot. Jack had just looked Gabe dead in the eye and said nothing. Gabe learned not to underestimate a medic’s power. His lips twitched into a grin. The thought of Jack holding life and death in his hands had been hotter than hell. They barely found a supply closet before they— 

 

Damn it. He didn’t need to stroll down memory lane. It would just take him to a bad place. He peeled the rest of the gauze off his skin with slightly less trouble. Every inch felt like it was ripping him open. Finally, it came free. Gabe inspected the wound. His side looked like raw meat. Dried blood caked most of him, the rest was dirty. He hadn’t taken care of himself like he should. At least Jack had cleaned the wound itself. He put his hand on it. His skin was blistering hot. Infection? He didn’t feel sick, just exhausted. If Jack thought that was a bad sign, Gabe would mention something. 

 

Gingerly, he turned on the sink again. Carefully wetting the washcloth, he dabbed away the blood. Once that was taken care of, he turned on the shower and let it warm up. Stripping out of his Reaper pants was more difficult. They were skin tight and armored. Thank God Jack wasn’t here. The struggle was epic. He’d survived an apocalyptic war, nearly twenty years as the most powerful man on Earth, and a broken heart. Yet he was nearly bested by a pair of pants. 

 

The bathroom was full of steam by the time he kicked free. Carefully keeping his wound out of the spray, he stepped inside. He hissed as the water hit numerous smaller wounds. Soaping up and rinsing off, he took care of business, washing his hair and scrubbing down before rinsing off. Done. Slowly, he got out, patting himself dry. At least he felt a little more human now. 

 

Wiping the fog from the mirror, his reflection stared back at him. He looked a hell of a lot older than he remembered. He’d gone gray at the temples and the peak of his hairline. Far more wrinkles and crow’s feet littered his face. It could be the light, but his scars looked deeper. His beard was scraggly and nearly all gray. Overall, he looked like an old man. Washed up, well past his prime, but still fighting. And for what? 

 

He couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering down a dark road. He turned away from the mirror and pulled on the clothes he’d borrowed. The jeans were snug in the thighs and waist, but they’d do. Red and white plaid looked odd on him, but it was a comfortable fit. In civilian clothing, he looked like a normal, middle aged man. No one would recognize him without the blue coat and eyepiece. Strike-Commander Reyes had little in common with the man in the mirror. 

 

With a sigh, Gabe tossed the towel on his head and scrubbed at his hair until it was dry. Finished, he hung up the towels on the hooks behind the door and went back downstairs. 

 

The soup looked ready for the rest of the ingredients. Milk, cheese, canned  chiles, cumin. He held off on the cayenne power. Jack probably still had no tolerance for spice. Gabe lost himself in the task. There was something soothing about stirring, measuring, and cleaning. Simple. After a lifetime of complexity, simple was nice. 

 

Looking through the numerous cabinets, he found bowls and silverware. He set the dining table. At first, he placed the settings next to each other. Jack’s openly hostile posture and expression at breakfast made him change his mind. He moved one set further down the table, putting a chair between them.

 

Tortilla soup wasn’t going to be enough. If he stopped now, his thoughts would wander. He needed something to keep him busy. He went back to the pantry, pulling out flour, baking soda, salt, and a can of lard. 

 

Almost a trance, he mixed the dry ingredients. God, how long had it been since he’d made tortillas? Middle school? Younger? He used to love helping  _ Abuela _ and Maria in the kitchen. Granted, the things he made were never as good as theirs, but it was that feeling of doing something for others, being helpful, that he liked. Maybe that’s why he’d chased the Strike-Commander position so hard. 

 

Add lard. Knead dough. Separate into balls. He fished out a shallow pan and set it on a burner. Find a cutting board and rolling pin, flour them. Roll the dough balls thin. Put them on the hot pan to cook. Flip them. Take them off. Repeat over and over. 

When he was done, he had a small mountain of tortillas and a pot of soup. Something tangible and real, something that was going to do something good and be useful. How many years had it been since he’d done something like that? 

 

He put the tortillas on a plate, covered them with a napkin, and carried them to the table. Jack froze in the middle of coming into the dining room. Gabe paused as well. Jack’s gaze looked at the set table, then at Gabe. 

 

“Made lunch,” he said. 

 

“It’s six at night.” 

 

Time had really got away from him. “Made dinner.” Gabe put the tortillas on the table. “Soup’s on the stove.” This was awkward. He picked up his bowl and brought it to the kitchen, serving himself. 

 

Jack came into the kitchen after him, bowl in hand. Gabe felt the need to say something to make things less awkward. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Every time he said anything, it only seemed to make their situation worse. He left the kitchen without a word and sat at the table. 

 

Jack reappeared, taking a seat. Gabe stuffed a spoonful of soup into his mouth to avoid talking. Not enough salt or chiles. 

 

“It’s good,” Jack said. He took a tortilla from the pile and dipped it in soup. 

 

Nice even when he didn’t have to be. It was aggravating. God, if only Jack would just treat Gabe like the asshole he was. “Before you ask,” he said. “I didn’t call.” 

 

Jack put the tortilla in his mouth instead of saying anything. 

 

“There’s no one to call,” Gabe muttered. No one should have the ability to mess with time. It would be bad news if any government or business got their hands on the Slipstream. And the people he did trust were powerless to help. Overwatch was scattered and broken. He hadn’t been able to keep them together. He’d failed them. 

 

Jack still didn’t say anything. Gabe idilolly tore a tortilla into bits and dropped them in his bowl. 

 

“How’s the side?”

 

Gabe shrugged. 

 

“It still hurt?”

 

He wasn’t about to admit that it was an aching, throbbing mess that made him want to lay down and die. “More or less.”

 

They lapsed into silence for several bites of food. 

 

“You’re not worried Talon is tracking you?”

 

“Shorted out the tracking systems in the plane,” Gabe said. “And it’s got a camouflage circuit. Anyone looking at if from a satellite or the air will only see a field.” 

 

Jack “hmmed” and dipped another tortilla. 

 

“How are cows… and stuff?” Gabe asked. 

 

“The same.” 

 

Fuck it. He stood. “Thanks for the stitches. Give me a few hours head start, and then you can call whoever you want. Army might be able to get that thing out of your field fast.” 

 

“Gabe, it’s getting dark.” 

 

“I’ve done plenty of night missions.” He picked up his bowl and headed for the kitchen. A warm hand grabbed his wrist. Gabe startled at the first human contact he’d had in years. 

 

Jack was on his feet, stern look on his face. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. You lost a lot of blood.”

 

“I’ll make more.” 

 

Jack’s grip tightened. “This isn’t a joke.” 

 

“I don’t think it is.” Gabe sighed. “I’ve imposed enough when you don’t want me here.”

 

Jack’s grip loosened, then disappeared. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. Doctor’s orders.” 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Jack’s eyes met his. 

 

“You’re in no condition to travel. Now sit down before you pass out.” 

 

Gabe obeyed and sank back into his chair. He couldn't lie. It was a relief that he was allowed to stay in this place just a little longer. Jack took their bowls into the kitchen and then reappeared, setting more soup in front of them. 

 

“Eat. You need your strength.” He sat down in the chair beside Gabe’s. 

 

Together, they finished their meal. 

  
  


Gabe insisted on doing the dishes. He’d made the mess, he’d clean it up. If only his relationship was so easy to fix. 

 

When he finished and went out to the living room, there was a large stack of blankets waiting for him on the couch. Jack came down the stairs, fluffy pillow in hand.

 

“You didn’t have to,” Gabe said. 

 

“You need a good night’s sleep.” 

 

“Slept in worse places,” Gabe said, looking at the couch. 

 

“We’re not young men anymore, Gabriel. We can’t take what we used to. Trust me, a good night’s sleep will do wonders.” 

 

Gabe put his hand on his aching side. Still hot to the touch. “Not sure sleep will fix everything wrong with me.” 

 

Jack handed him a small, white bottle. “That’s what these are for.” 

 

Gabe popped open the lid. Tiny yellow pills lay at the bottom. “Makes me miss the biotic fields.” 

 

“Haven’t had those in years,” Jack said. “You’ll just have to make do. Take one. If the pain is that bad, take two. They  _ will _ knock you on your ass. Good night, Gabriel.” 

 

It used to be here where Gabe would say “sweet dreams,” and Jack would say “of you.” Instead, all he had now was, “Goodnight, Jack.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe broods.   
> Neither of them say what they should.   
> We all suffer.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love tormenting the boys.

 

The first creak of the stairs came around midnight. Jack ignored it. The next came five minutes later. Three creaks relatively close together, then a long silence, followed by a single creak. 

 

Jack grumbled, swinging his legs out of bed. He stood, grabbing the half empty bottle from the nightstand. He opened his door, light spilling out into the hallway. 

 

Gabe stood on the landing, hair disheveled like he’d woke from a nightmare. The blue blanket from Jack’s bed trailed behind Gabe down the stairs. He clutched one corner of it to his chest like a frightened child. Slowly, he turned toward Jack, blinking owlishly. 

 

Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “You took two.” His pain was that bad? Why hadn’t he said anything?

 

Gabe just stared at him, then slowly turned toward the pictures on the wall. “I know them.” His words slurred slightly. 

 

“Yeah,” Jack said. 

 

Gabe took a step forward. He swayed. Jack closed his eyes to keep himself from swaying himself. When he opened his eyes, Gabe had his cheek against the Christmas photo, one hand pressed to the glass. 

 

Oh boy. He was  _ way _ out of it. 

 

“I looked everywhere, but I’m not here,” he said. 

 

Jack shook his head. “Come on, let's get you back in bed.” He took a step and the floor swayed under his feet. Goddamnit. Normally he could walk just fine even after more than what he usually drank. 

 

Gabe closed his eyes. “I can’t find me,” he said, sliding down to the floor. “I’m lost. Where am I?”

 

Jack sighed. “You’re not lost, Gabriel.” He put his hand on the wall to steady himself and walked over. He knelt in front of him. “You’re right here. It’s okay.” 

 

“It’s not okay,” Gabe mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I should be there, but I’m not.”

 

Jack swayed, toppling onto his ass. Oh for Chrissake. Why was Gabe doing this to him? He took another hit from the bottle. “You should have been there, but you weren’t.” 

 

The bitter words were out in the open before he even realized he wanted to say them. 

 

Gabe planted his face in his knees, curling into a smaller ball. “Lost.” 

 

“Yeah, you did lose,” Jack said. He wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey, or the broken heart talking. “We could have had a good life together. We really could’ve. The life we talked about all those nights. It could have been ours.” 

 

Gabe put his hands over his ears. “Not again. Please. Not again.”

 

Jack rubbed his face. He wasn’t drunk enough to deal with this. It was hard enough to get through the day. Seeing Gabe vulnerable like this….

 

“I miss Jack.” 

 

“Don’t start with me,” he snapped, pushing himself to his wobbly feet. He didn’t have the heart for this. “Come on. On your feet, soldier.” 

 

Gabe just sat there shaking. God, when was the last time the poor guy had seen any real kindness? Jack put his hand on Gabe’s head. The familiar curls were still soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through them. Gabe had really let his hair get long. It looked nice. He massaged small circles against Gabe’s scalp. A lifetime ago, this was the only way he could get Gabe to relax enough to sleep some nights. 

 

Gabe reached up, groping for Jack’s hand before he found and held it. The fight melted out of Jack, leaving him drained and tired. They stayed in the hall for several minutes like that. 

 

“Come on, Gabriel. Let’s get you back in bed. You’ll feel better with some rest. I promise.” 

 

“I did something bad,” Gabe finally whispered. 

 

“No you didn’t,” Jack told him, stroking his hair again. “I don’t mind that you’re up here. But it’s late, and you need to rest.” 

 

“I did something bad,” Gabe repeated. His whole frame trembled. “I did something bad.” 

 

Jack knelt down, putting an arm over Gabe quaking shoulders. If he wasn’t going to get up, Jack was in no condition to carry him. They’d just have to wait for this wave of delirium to pass. 

 

“I did. I did,” Gabe voice took on a plaintive tone. “Please, stop. I can’t take it. I did. I know.” 

 

“Shh,” Jack said, carefully rocking them back and forth. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

 

He didn’t know how long they sat there. Little by little, Gabe’s shaking diminished, until he was still. 

 

“You alright?” Jack asked. 

 

Gabe lifted his head and looked at him. His pupils were dilated so much, his eyes were nearly black. What was concerning, was the look of utter defeat. He looked around himself without a word. 

 

“Gabriel?”

 

Slowly, Gabe looked back at him, blank expression on his face. 

 

“Are you okay now?” 

 

Gabe seemed to stare right through him.

 

“Alright big guy. I think that’s enough wandering around for one night.” He helped Gabe to his feet. 

 

There was no resistance. Gabe got to his feet silently, swaying for a second before going still. 

 

“That’s it. Now, let's get you back to bed.” Jack took Gabe’s hand. 

 

Robotically, Gabe followed after him, blanket still clutched in one hand. They took the stairs one at a time, Gabe trailing after Jack seemingly without realizing where he was going. It was unnerving. Jack had seen Gabe on pain meds before, but he’d never been like this. 

 

There was the infamous hugging spree, the famous giggle fit. There was even the drool incident. This was nothing like anything Jack had seen. Gabe was just so… lifeless. Once they were safely on level footing again, Jack took him back to the couch. 

 

There were blankets flung everywhere. It looked like Gabe had tossed and turned for hours. Was it a reaction to the meds? He’d given Gabe the same dose back in their Crisis days. Had he developed a different response? Had he been on other medication? Jack hadn’t even thought to ask. That medical degree the army paid for wasn’t worth much if he couldn’t remember such a basic step. 

 

Gabe slumped face first into the cushions and lay still. 

 

“You’re scaring me, Gabe,” Jack said, rolling him over onto his back. He was going to hurt himself in this state.

 

The glassy-looking brown eyes just stared at the ceiling as Jack collected the blankets and brought them back. Maybe if he swaddled Gabe into a tight enough ball, he wouldn’t be able to wiggle free. 

 

“Just sleep it off,” Jack said, tucking the blankets around Gabe in a tight cocoon. “I don’t want you hurting yourself if you get up.” 

 

Gabe mumbled something Jack didn’t catch. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Deserve it.” Gabe voice was hoarse. 

 

Jack stopped tucking the blankets. “Deserve what?” 

 

Gabe’s eyelids slid closed. “The bad things… I deserve them.”

 

“That’s not true. You’re a good person, Gabe.” 

 

“I hurt him,” Gabe whispered. “Everyone knows it. How could I do it?” 

 

“That’s not true either.” Had everyone blamed Gabe after Jack retired? 

 

“Didn’t ever deserve him.” Gabe’s head rolled to the side. “Didn’t… deserve….” He went limp, breathing slow and even. 

 

Jack dragged his fingers down his face. Fuck. It was just the meds talking. Gabe was out of it, delirious, saying things that didn’t make any sense. It was  _ just _ the meds talking. 

 

He knew it. But he couldn't stop thinking about what Gabe said. He _ really _ wasn’t drunk enough for this. He stumbled to the kitchen, nearly tore the door off the pantry, and grabbed another bottle. 

 

Had everyone really turned on Gabe? He’d always told them when they came to visit that there were no hard feelings. Sadness, yes. Unhappy that their relationship deteriorated, yes. But never animosity. He told them the truth; they simply wanted different things. They said they respected his wishes. But when they went back to Overwatch, did they hold Gabe responsible for the breakup? Every time Jack invited them for holidays, did that twist a knife he hadn’t been aware of? Did they really think it was all Gabe’s fault?

 

Unscrewing the cap, he took a long pull of whiskey. Had everyone turned their back on Gabe? Did they abandon him? Had anyone looked for him after the explosion? Or had they all assumed he got what he deserved? Jack stumbled up the stairs. The photos’ eyes all seemed to follow him, judgmental gazes burning into his back as his fled to his room. 

 

_ Look what you did.  _

 

_ You said you cared for him. _

 

Jack slammed the door closed. He slid to the dirt stained carpet, burying his face in his hands. The voices didn’t stop. 

 

_ You turned your family against him.  _

 

_ No wonder everything fell apart.  _

 

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I only wanted him to be happy.” 

 

_ And just how happy is he after you did what you did? _

 

_ Nothing more than a drunk, old man. _

 

“Shut up!”

 

_ Rather hold a bottle at night than the man he loved.  _

 

“I said shut up!” He hurled the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall in a burst of glass and liquid. 

 

The whiskey seeped into the wall, staining it, reminding him of his weakness. 

 

_ Your mistake.  _

 

_ It was your mistake. _

 

He couldn’t do this. It was too much. He crawled across the floor. Dirty clothes and old boots peppered his path like landmines. Empty beer cans trinklied and crunched as he swept them out of his way.

 

Finally, he crawled into bed. Head swimming, heart aching, he groped at the nightstand. His phone toppled to the floor. 

 

_ Drunk. _

 

_ You used to be a hero. Now look at you. _

 

He crawled off the bed. Picking the phone out of a pile of dirty plates, he pressed himself into the corner. He fumbled with the passcode before finally unlocking it. He dialed her number and prayed she was awake. 

 

“Pops?” Lena asked. “What’s up?” 

 

“Am I a bad person?” Jack blurted.

 

“What? Hold on. Let me get somewhere—there. Now I can hear you.”

 

“Am I a bad person?” Jack asked again. “Was leaving the right choice?” 

 

“Pops, slow down,” Lena said. “What’s brought this on?” 

 

“Been thinking,” Jack said. “About everything. Lena… did I make everyone turn on Gabe?” 

 

“Jack,” Lena’s voice was calm. “Easy does it. You’re all over the map. Take a breath.” 

 

Jack leaned his head back against the wall, taking a minute to compose himself as much as he could.

 

“You’re not a bad person,” Lena said. “Please tell me you know that.” 

 

“Am I?” 

 

“Of course you are. Who got me off the street? Who helped me through bootcamp? You even stayed up late helping me study for my officer’s test.” 

 

“That’s different. You’re my girl.” 

 

“You’d do it for anyone and you know it. You’re the most kind hearted, sweetest person who ever lived.”

 

“I don’t feel like it. It feels like leaving Overwatch was selfish.” 

 

The line was quiet for a while.   
  
“Pops. Have you been drinking?” 

 

“No.” Lena was sharp as a knife. She’d see through him before he ever even opened his mouth to lie. “Maybe a little.” 

 

“We were all sad when you left,” Lena told him. “I didn’t want you to go. But, you gave up so much to save the world, you deserved to be happy. And if that wasn’t in Overwatch, that was fine. All of us supported you.”

 

“I didn’t abandon you?” 

 

“Never. Retiring is nothing close to that.” 

 

Lena always knew what to say to calm him down. A little voice in the back of his mind wondered if that’s exactly why she said what she did. Just wanted to talk the selfish drunk back from the ledge so she could get on with her life. He slumped against the wall. 

 

“And what about Gabe?” 

 

“Pops,” Lena’s tone was warning. “How much is a little bit of drinking?”

 

“I’m serious,” Jack ignored her question. “Did my leaving turn everyone against him?” 

 

“Pops—” 

 

“Because he didn’t deserve that.” 

 

“Pops—” 

 

“It wasn’t his fault. Is that why Overwatch fell apart? Is it because I made everyone hate him?” 

 

“Jack!” 

 

Lena’s sharp tone stopped Jack in his tracks. He took a breath. “I’m sorry. Just… what if I hadn’t left? Would our family still be together? Would he still be alive?”

 

“You can’t put that on yourself.” She sighed. “I don’t know the whole story, but I know you weren’t happy with how things were going. You had to do what was right for you. Gabriel… he just… he threw himself into the job and never came back out.” 

 

“Maybe I could have pulled him back.” Jack rubbed his face. “Maybe I should have stayed to talk sense into him.” 

 

“And maybe you couldn’t. You know there was no stopping him when he had his mind made up.” 

 

“But if I’d taken that promotion he offered—” 

 

“Anything could have happened,” Lena told him. “Maybe it would have made things better, but what if it made things worse? What if it put you two at odds? What if you never got to see each other and it made you bitter and angry? Then what?”

 

He… hadn’t thought of that.

 

“What if you did like you always do, and just suffered in silence because you don’t want to upset anyone? Jack… what if you had been there that day? Would we have lost both of you?” 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Jack sighed. She was right. Again. 

 

“Trust me, if I could go back and do things different, I would change so much. But we can’t. We can only learn from our mistakes.” 

 

“Since when did you turn into the parent with all the right answers?” 

 

Lena giggled. “Since about the time I memorized all your good parent speeches.”

 

“Sorry to bother you, pumpkin. Forgive an old man dreaming about the past.” 

 

“I loved Gabriel too. He taught me a lot, and he was there when he could be. But… you have to let him go.” 

 

“I know.” Jack closed his eyes. She was right. He had to let go. Things were different, he was different. He wasn’t going to allow things go the same way again. “Would you—” 

 

“Swing by the farm?” she asked. 

 

“If you're busy I understand.” 

 

“Never too busy for you. I’ll be on the way tomorrow, okay? I’ll pick up anything you need.”

 

“Just need a little help getting something out of here.” 

 

“I’ll be sure to boost a pickup.” 

 

“No theft, Lena. You’re on the straight and narrow, remember?” 

 

She chuckled. “Right. Former gang member, turned black ops, turned bounty hunter is  _ totally _ on the straight and narrow.”

 

“You’re better than the person you used to be, pumpkin.” 

 

“Well, at least one person thinks so. The media… not so much.” 

 

“Sounds like someone has her own problems she’s dealing with.”

 

“Nothing some pecan pie can’t cure.” Lena muffled the receiver for a moment before her voice came back. “Gotta run. See you in a few days.” 

 

“Be safe.” 

 

“Who needs to be safe when I’m this good?” Her line cut out. 

 

Jack prayed she meant she had to run to get to something, not that she was being chased. If he lost her— 

 

He couldn’t think about that. He crawled into bed. The alarm clock told him it was oh-two-hundred. There were cows to milk, chickens to feed, eggs to collect, the tractor needed work, that fence wasn’t done. 

 

Life didn’t stand still just because he was trying to mend his broken heart. But he wasn’t mending anything stewing. Tonight, he was letting go of the past and embracing whatever the future brought.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder what exactly Lena is coming to toss out of the house....


	6. Chapter Six

 

 

Footsteps woke him from a muddled dream. He hovered on the cusp of consciousness for a moment before the dream pulled him back. 

 

Fire and sunshine. Pain lanced up his back. A soft kiss on his cheek. 

 

Crowing woke him again. Light splashed across his face. The fog in his head swirled, keeping him trapped in a half-awake state. Where was he? He tried to open his eyes, but they stubbornly stayed closed. He drifted back to the dream. 

 

_ What did I do wrong?  _ He was falling into nothingness, and that was all he could think.  _ What did I do wrong? Someone tell me. _

 

He woke with a start, bolting upright. Agony shot up his ribs. Hissing, he laid back down, hand pressed to the wound. It was scorching hot and tender as hell. So much for fast healing. Maybe he’d finally pushed his body to the limit and it was breaking down. Well, he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

 

Pushing himself up through the pain, he struggled to his feet. He shuffled to the downstairs washroom, handled his business, and wandered back out. Noises from the kitchen caught his attention. He wandered toward them, his stomach reminding him that it was empty, but also that it would violently protest anything he tried to choke down. He opened the door. 

 

Jack was at the sink, large stainless steel bucket in hand, pouring white liquid into a coffee filter and funnel combo. He stopped, set the bucket aside, shook the filter, and then took them both out. Grabbing a lid from the counter, he put it on something and then lifted it out. It was a huge glass mason jar filled with the white liquid. 

 

“Is that milk?” he asked. 

 

Jack looked over at him, then set the jar aside. “It is.” 

 

“Why is it in a bucket?”

 

Jack actually chuckled. Gabe had forgotten how much he missed that sound. 

 

“What do you think the cows are for?” 

 

“I don’t know, hamburgers?”

 

Jack shook his head. “Bonita,  Suteki, and Hermosa are dairy cows.” 

 

“You named your cows Beautiful in three languages?” 

 

Jack shrugged. “Seemed better than Beautiful One, Two, and Three.” He set an empty jar in the sink, put the filter and funnel combo in the mouth, and poured again. 

 

“Don’t you have to pasteurize that?” Gabe asked. 

 

“Not if I handle it right. Besides, raw is better for you. Tastes better too.” 

 

“Well, you sure took to this farmer thing easily, didn't you?”

 

“And you sure know how to play a bad guy.” Jack set the empty bucket aside and placed his hands on the counter. “When did you go from Strike-Commander to Reaper?” 

 

Gabe sat on one of the island barstools before his legs decided to give out on him. “Depends who you ask. But I think I was a villain long before I realized it.” 

 

Jack screwed a lid onto the jar in the sink and put the small stack of them in the fridge. “I don’t think you have it in you to be a villain.” 

 

Gabe wanted to scoff, but held it in. “Well, that makes one person who thinks that. The media, not so much.” 

 

Jack actually cracked a smile. 

 

“Something funny?”

 

“Just reminded me of someone is all.” Jack put the bucket in the sink and started washing. “Feeling better?” 

 

On cue, his side throbbed. “In a way.” 

 

“Sleep well?” 

 

Gabe shook his head. “Don’t know. Just a big blank from a little while after I took the second pill to about five minutes ago. I assume it’s the meds.” 

 

“Nothing at all?” Jack pressed. 

 

Gabe racked his memory. “Just nonsense. Blurs of colors. Feeling lost. Why?” 

 

“Just curious about your reaction. You’re not on any other meds, are you?” 

 

“No.” He groaned. “There wasn’t another drool incident was there?”

 

Jack rinsed his tools and set them on a towel to dry. “No. Nothing like that.” 

 

“Thank God. I don’t think I could live down another one.” 

 

Jack’s lips cracked into a small smile. “The one time you picked to wear a white shirt. And a dress shirt to boot.” 

 

Gabe rubbed his face. “It was a joint council meeting. I couldn’t go in my hoodie.” 

 

“They shouldn’t have asked you to speak knowing you were wounded. But for being drugged up to your eyeballs, you gave a damn good speech.” 

 

“Don’t remember,” Gabe mumbled. 

 

“It was impressive,” Jack said, leaning against the counter toward Gabe. “One minute you're babbling about the room flipping upside down, the next, you're in front of some of the most powerful world leaders convincing them we needed more funding and freedom.” 

 

“And then I sat down and drooled over my entire shirt. Ana has it all documented on film. Reinhardt never fails to tell anyone about it. Really impressive.” 

 

“You were a good leader, Gabe. You put the needs of your people before your own. Even if you shouldn’t.” 

 

Gabe. Not Gabriel. Maybe they were making some steps in the right direction. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but as you can see by everything that’s happened in the last seven years, I won’t be winning any leader of the year awards.” 

 

“You’re too hard on yourself.” 

 

“Am I?” Gabe shook his head. “All of this happened because of me. Maybe if I hadn’t been such an ass, things would different.” He really wanted to look at Jack, but knew better. “Would have been a better leader. A better friend.”

 

“You did the best you could,” Jack said. 

 

“Then my best is shit.” 

 

“Gabe.”

 

Something about the tone of his voice made Gabe look up. Jack rested his hip against the counter. 

 

“You did what you had to do, to the best of your ability. No one could ask for more.” 

 

“I should have done more anyways.” 

 

Jack reached over, putting his hand over Gabe’s. “You’re only human. How much did you give up to get where you are? How many people are alive because of you? Have their family because of you? A lesser man would have broken.”

 

“A better man wouldn’t have broken the thing that made him strong.” He turned his hand over, Jack’s palm resting in his. He didn’t dare do more than that.

 

Jack closed his fingers around his hand. “You are strong.” 

 

“I was stronger with you.” Gabe squeezed Jack’s hand.

 

“We were stronger together.” 

 

They held each other's gazes. Was this a moment? Where they having a moment? Was the right time to reconnect? He didn’t want to hope, but it was too late for that. He was getting too old and hope felt like a balm on his soul. There was no way to resist. He’d wandered in darkness so long, and now finally there was a light. 

 

Jack withdrew his hand slowly. “I’ve got some chores for you to do around the house until you're back in shape.”

 

“Don’t you dare ask me to milk a cow.” 

 

“We’ll work up to that one. I’ll start off easy; feeding the chickens in the mornings. You need to keep walking and get your muscles moving again.” 

 

“Whatever you say, Doc.” So, he was staying here. A least for a little while. Maybe it wasn’t that Jack couldn’t tolerate him, but just mad? And now that emotion was ebbing? Maybe they could still fix this. 

 

“I’ve gotta collect the eggs before the hens get crafty. There’s some leftovers in the fridge. Try not to get in trouble while I’m gone.” 

 

“Not going anywhere fast,” Gabe said as his ribs throbbed. 

 

Jack walked around the island and put his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

 

Gabe put his hand over Jack’s. Emotions clogged his throat. It’d been so long since he’d had anyone on his side. And Jack… was he finally forgiving him? “Thank you,” he managed to choke out.  

 

Jack interlaced their fingers together for a moment before walking away and out the door. 

 

Gabe blew out a breath and sagged against the island. This might work out. He might get a second chance. The little ball of hope in his chest grew. He was going to make it right this time. 

 

Buzzing by the sink drew his attention to the phone there. Jack must have forgotten to take it with him. 

 

Gabe eased himself off the stool and picked up the phone. The ID said Pumpkin. New boyfriend? Old boyfriend? Of course Jack had moved on. Who wouldn’t need someone to hold them after the dark days?

 

His thumb hovered over the answer button. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. It was going to hurt. He pressed it anyway. 

 

“Oi, watch it! I’m driving ‘ere!” 

 

Gabe nearly collapsed with relief. It was Lena. Lena was Pumpkin. Not a boyfriend.

 

“‘ey, Pops,” she said, sounding distracted. “Gonna be a bit late. Hit some trouble. Nothing you need to worry about. Should be there tomorrow sometime. Hope whatever you need tossed out of the house can wait that long.” 

 

The little, fluttering hope in his chest died. 

 

“Got everything to make pecan pie. Pops? Jack, you there?”

 

Gabe slowly lowered the phone to the counter and ended the call. 

 

That was the reason for the sudden shift. Jack was stalling for time so Lena could show up. Lena was a bounty hunter these days. After Gabe’s stunt stealing the Slipstream, Talon no doubt had a huge bounty on his head. Not to mention all the people and governments that wanted “Reaper” captured. Jack distracts him while Lena goes in for the kill?

 

Why? So they could throw him out? All Jack had to do was say the word and Gabe would be gone. Or Maybe Jack just didn’t want to do the dirty work of telling him to get out. Hippocratic oath and all. He couldn’t kick out a wounded patient. But Lena sure as hell could drag one out by the hair for him. In this state, Gabe wasn’t sure how much of a fight he’d be able to put up against the best agent Blackwatch had ever seen. He could only run, and hope he had a big enough head start. 

 

Gabe knew he couldn’t survive a second rejection. And yet, he’d still let himself hope. He’d been a fool. 

The door opened. 

 

“Looks like omelets for dinner,” Jack said, closing the door. “Probably for breakfast tomorrow too.” 

 

A combination of betrayal, despair, and anger churned through Gabe. Maybe he should have scampered off while Jack’s back was turned. Repay what had been done to him. But there was too much hurt in him to leave it all unspoken. 

 

“Gabe? What are you doing? You shouldn’t be—” 

 

“You should have just told me you didn’t want me here.” 

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Gabe slid the phone along the counter toward Jack. “Lena said she’ll be late. Should be here tomorrow. Said whatever you needed tossed out of the house could wait.” 

 

Jack stayed silent. 

 

“Tell me, is she here for the bounty?” Gabe was surprised he was keeping it together this well. “Or just because you can’t stand me?”

 

“Neither,” Jack said. “You’re misunderstanding—”

 

Gabe slammed his fist on the island. The countertop cracked. Jack fell silent.

 

“Don’t lie to me,” Gabe said. 

 

“You come into my house,” Jack said, “bloody, beaten, and you have the nerve to demand explanations from  _ me _ ?”

 

Gabe slowly turned around to face Jack. 

 

“I said I would go. I tried to leave.  _ You _ said kept me here. And yet, you called Lena to throw me out.”

 

“That’s not why I called her.” 

 

“Then why?”

 

“Because this is hard for me, Gabriel.”

 

Back to Gabriel. 

 

“Because having you here makes me think—” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I called her to keep me from doing something stupid.” 

 

“Like what?” Gabe demanded. 

 

Jack pinned him with a glare, but said nothing. He didn’t have to say anything. It dawned on Gabe. His heart shattered to the floor. 

 

“She’s what’s keeping you from running away again, isn’t she?” 

 

“Gabriel—” 

 

He put up his hands in surrender. “You’d abandon your own house to get away from me?” 

 

“No. That’s not—”

 

“I get it.” Pain throbbed up and down his side, radiating out along his chest. “You ran then, and you want to run now.” His left leg tingled, threatening to buckle. “At least have the decency to tell me to my face this time.” 

 

“God, Gabriel. It’s not like that.” 

 

“Were you glad when you heard I was dead?” Gabe asked. “Happy to finally be rid of me for good?”

 

Jack’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide. “No!”

 

“Really?” God, he was such a stupid asshole, twisting the knife in his own gut like this. But he couldn’t stop himself now. “Bet it was a weight off your mind. Not have to worry your evil ex hurting you anymore?” 

 

“You  _ never _ hurt me, Gabriel,” Jack snarled. “ _ Never _ .” 

“Then why did you leave?” Gabe took a step forward, ribs aching. “I’m listening. I’ve been waiting twenty years to know what the hell I did.” 

 

“It wasn’t something you did,” Jack said. “It was something you didn’t say.”

 

Gabe had to do a double take. “Excuse me?” He hadn’t heard right. The pain was affecting his ears. “What I  _ didn’t _ say?”

 

Jack crossed his arms, his face expressionless. “It was some time after you offered me the promotion to head Blackwatch. I thought about it for a long time.” 

 

“Me offering you a promotion made you leave?”

 

“No. But it made me think about what I wanted. We had dinner a few weeks later. Probably the first time we both had the time. I asked where you saw yourself in five years. Ten years. Do you remember?” 

 

Gabe remembered that night perfectly. It was the last time Gabe had seen Jack. Gabe had replayed that night countless times trying to pinpoint what had driven Jack away. “I do.” How the hell was supposed to know what he didn’t say?

 

“You told me all your grand plans. You were going to expand Overwatch, bring in more civilians, scale back the military operations. In five years you wanted Overwatch to be a stabilizing force. In ten, you wanted no war at all. You smiled and said that probably wouldn’t happen, but we had to aim high.” 

 

“What were you looking for?”

 

Jack’s lips pressed together. His jaw flexed and Gabe could practically see him grinding his teeth. 

 

“You really don’t know, do you?”

 

“If I did, you think I’d let things get so bad between us?”

 

Jack shook his head and looked out a window. “You didn’t say us, Gabriel.” 

 

“What?”

 

The icy-blue gaze turned back to him. “You went on for six minutes about the agencies you wanted to create, the people you wanted to appoint. About how Gerard would make a good Blackwatch head but not as good as me. And not once in that time did you mention where you saw us.” 

 

Gabe held up his hand. He need a moment to sort this out. “Let me get this straight.” He took a breath to steady turbulent emotions. “You dumped me, left without a word, without explanation, while my back was turned… because I didn’t talk about us one night?” 

 

“It wasn’t that itself,” Jack snapped. He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair again. “It just put a lot of things in perspective.” 

 

“Enlighten me,” Gabe said. “Because I still don’t understand.” 

 

Jack locked gazes with him again and slumped against the wall. “Jesus, Gabe. I had been trying to hold onto us for so long back then. I put up with the late nights, the long meetings. Missed dates. Cut short video chats.” He pushed himself off the wall and wandered over to the island. He put his hands on the countertop and leaned against it. “And that promotion? Head black ops? Me? Hell, I can’t believe I even considered it for so long at the time.” 

 

Gabe came over and stood on the other side of the island. “You considered it for two weeks. Why? It should have been a five minute decision.” 

 

“But it wasn’t.” 

 

“Why not?” Gabe demanded. “You would have reported directly to me, no one else. We would have been on the same base, gone to the same meetings. It was the best way to keep everyone together. Keep  _ us _ together.” 

 

“Would it?” Jack looked up. 

 

Gabe curled his hands into fists. “Yes.”

 

“No.” 

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I asked myself that same thing for two weeks. I played out every scenario. I wanted to find a reason, any reason, to take the job. But I couldn’t. I’d constantly be on a mission, come and go at all hours, have to recruit and train all my operatives. You know I would never take days off.” 

 

“We were busy in SEP and the Crisis. We would have made it work.” 

 

“But we were in an active war, on the same strike team. This was peacetime, with two different jobs. Look at what happened when you were made Strike-Commander. How many dinners did you miss? How many rain checks did you have to write for our joint workouts? You can’t tell me you didn’t have a ready made template text saying you wouldn’t be able to make whatever plans we had.” 

 

“I only had the position for a few months. Of course I was going to be busier than usual. It would have mellowed it.” 

 

“Did it?” Jack asked. “Because from where I sat, you only got busier. How long did you spend in Zurich? On average.” 

 

Gabe didn’t know. “Not long. I guess.” 

 

“This is what I saw: I’d be gone, you’d be gone, and even if we were there, we’d be too busy to see each other. How long would we have lasted like that? A few years? And the calls to say that we won’t make it for dinner again. We missed our anniversary again. Our plane is grounded, we won’t be there to say goodbye before the other leaves for something. Again. And again. What kind of life would that have been for us?” 

 

“So you just gave up?” 

 

“I tried. I really did. But when we got to that dinner, and all we had to talk about was Overwatch…  I had to know what your plans for the future were. And without a moment of hesitation, you painted a picture of your life without me in it.” 

 

“So instead of saying anything,” Gabe began, putting his hands on the island to ground himself. “You just sat there. And then you left. Because I told you my plans and you didn’t like them.” 

 

“Because I knew how things would play out,” Jack countered. “You would get lost in the job. I’d cling to what little bit of you that I could. Slowly, we’d become bitter and resentful, until what love we did have left turned into something toxic. Our paths were going to diverge, Gabriel. I thought it best to make a clean cut.” 

 

Rage twisted Gabe’s heart. “You just decided that. For both of us.” 

 

Jack looked up, his mouth set, brow furrowed, gaze steady. Oh, if he wanted this to be a fight he was going to get one hell of brawl.

 

“I did what I thought was best for us.”

 

“And that was to wait until I was gone and leave your resignation letter on my desk?” 

 

“Because this was exactly the thing I was trying to avoid.” He stabbed the counter with a finger. 

 

“You only delayed it,” Gabe snapped. 

 

“Gabriel, don’t.” 

 

“Don’t what? Speak my mind?” 

 

“Just don’t. We’ve hurt enough—” 

 

“How would you know? You got to make all the choices. Seems like you hurt a lot less, what with seeing it coming and all. You weren’t blindsided.” 

 

“Gabriel—”

 

“You killed our relationship over some naive bullshit I said over dinner one night. I have the right to be angry about it.” 

 

“You want to talk about killing our relationship?” Jack leaned in, lips curled into a snarl. “How about months on end was it where your damn intern saw you more than I did?” 

 

“Coming from the guy that spent every waking moment hanging with his squadmates rather than his fiancé,” Gabe shot back.

 

“You were too busy solidifying your power base,” Jack spat. “How many ambassadors and delegates did you have lunches and dinner with? How many times did we? Five. In as many months.” 

 

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy playing Mr. Perfect we would have had time together.” Gabe’s breath came faster as his heart hammered his abused ribs. “You keep throwing the job in my face, but you did the same damn thing! The minute I was free, you were just as busy with your job.”

 

“I did the best I could, Gabriel!” 

 

“So did I!” His best was never good enough when it really mattered. 

 

Jack’s shoulders sagged and he hung his head. “See? I was right. Everything would have blown up in our faces, just like this.  _ This _ was why I left. I didn’t want this.”

 

“You got it anyways. But now, with twenty years of baggage to go with it.” 

 

“For all your talking, I don’t hear you once denying anything,” Jack snapped.

 

“What am I supposed to deny? That things wouldn’t have been rough? Of course they were going to be rough. But we were supposed to be a team. Teams figure out problems together. You should know all about that—”

 

Jack slammed his hands on the counter, cracking more tiles. “You were supposed to say that you couldn’t possibly imagine your future without me in it!” 

 

Gabe fell silent.

 

Jack curled his hands into fists and bowed his head. “With me sitting right there in front of you,  _ us _ didn’t even cross your mind.” Jack lifted his head. A single tear slid from the corner of his eye. “Goddamn it, you didn’t even try to come after me. You let me go.” 

 

“And you just….” Gabe closed his eyes, curling and uncurling his fingers. “And you said nothing? No: hey asshole, I’m sitting right here. You never had a problem pointing out my flaws. One of which, as you constantly used to needle me about, was my inability to pick up on subtle mood clues.”

 

“Even if I had, it wouldn’t have changed anything. We were heading down a dark road. I didn’t see any other way.” 

 

“That, coming from the man that would never take ‘the only option’ for an answer in a war. Fuck, Jack!”

 

“There was no other way!” Jack shouted. “We wanted different things! You wanted that life, Gabriel. You wanted the meetings, the conflicts, the puzzles to solve. I wanted a family, kids, growing old together.”

 

“Who said I didn’t want those things?” 

 

“You did. That night, you didn’t even mention planning our fucking  _ wedding _ . You were far more interested in becoming the world’s police chief. Marrying me didn’t factor in to your ten year plan. Did you even plan to marry me at all? Or was I just a warm body that got you through the war?” 

 

“Fuck you,  _ Jonathan _ .” That was too much. That broke him. Gabe pushed himself away from the counter. He was done. “You used to be the only one who didn’t think I was an asshole. Apparently I was wrong.” He walked toward the door. If that’s what Jack really thought, they never had a chance.

 

“Where are you going?” Jack demanded. 

 

“What the fuck does it matter?” Gabe said, not looking back. 

 

“You’re hurt. Don’t be an idiot.” 

 

“I can’t spend another moment with the man who thinks he wasn’t my world.” He shoved the door open. “You’ve always had my entire heart, Jackass. Always.” He slammed the door behind him and stormed down the stairs. 

 

His heart raced as fire poured through his veins. Twenty years. Twenty fucking years he’d been craving the answer. Tried to puzzle out the pieces. And in the end, his life was ruined because of a fabricated oversight. Jack knew, he fucking  _ knew _ how much Gabe cared for him. Just because he didn’t say something as stupid as  _ us _ once—once—in a conversation, didn’t mean they should throw everything away. They should have fought to save their relationship. They were a team.

 

Jack should have told him. Should have said something. But no. He just decided for both of them that this was the best course of action. He thought it was better to let everything they ever had go than to hold on. He huffed for breath, but couldn’t seem to fill his lungs. 

 

They should have fought— Jack should have opened up— The world blurred and started spinning. They were a team. He staggered. They were  _ supposed  _ to be a team. He should have— 

 

His leg buckled under him. He hit the ground. 

 

When consciousness came back, his vision was fading. His chest was engulfed in pain and his lungs refused to gasp for air. Something wet pooled under him. Well, better to die on a peaceful farm than by a bullet to the head. 

 

He closed his eyes and sank into oblivion.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we know what happened....


	7. Chapter Seven

 

Jack took the cold compress off Gabe’s forehead when he groaned. Slowly, the brown eyes fluttered open. The fear and anger that had ebbed came back. Jack held his tongue. The last time he let his anger get the better of him, it drove Gabe to this state.

 

Gabe blinked, eyes half-lidded. “Hell’s duller than I expected,” he mumbled. 

 

Jack shook his head. 

 

Gabe slowly came back to himself, his eyes focusing. “Jack?”

 

He nodded. 

 

“Am I dead?” 

 

“You should be.” 

 

Gabe blinked at him. Jack slid a mason jar along the table into view. Gabe’s gaze focused on the bloody bit of metal lying on the bottom. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me something didn’t feel right?” 

 

Gabe closed his eyes, then after a moment, opened them. “Thought I was just getting old and breaking down.” 

 

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?” Jack demanded. “I sewed you up with an inch of metal still lodged in your rib. It could have caused an infection. Hell, it could have popped your damn lung!” Gabe didn’t need this dumped on him right now, but Jack couldn’t stop the doctor in him. “You do realize I don’t have an operating theater in the basement, right? You’re damn lucky I could scrape together some improvised tools. It’ll be a miracle if you don’t get an infection this time.” He blew out a breath. “Damn it, Gabe, you scared the hell out of me when I found you on the ground. I thought you were dead!”

 

Gabe turned his face away. “You should have let me.”

 

“Let you what?” Jack demanded. 

 

“Die.”  

 

Jack stared in disbelief. “What?”

 

Gabe just laid there, still as the grave. “A disgrace. A failure. A wanted terrorist,” Gabe said in a placid voice. “I’ve been nothing but bad news for a long time. It’d be a mercy at this point to put me out of my misery.” 

 

This wasn’t the Gabriel Reyes Jack knew. Gabe had never been one to wallow in depression, let alone just… give up. “That’s the pain meds talking. This isn’t you.” 

 

“I drove the love of my life away,” Gabe went on, “and spent twenty years thinking I’d done something horrendous to him. And really, the best thing in my life slipped away from me over some stupid words.” He sighed. “I’ve got nothing left to live for, Jack. I was on borrowed time anyways. Would have been better to go out peacefully.”

 

“Oh, Gabe….” Jack moved over to the couch. Carefully, he lifted Gabe to cradle him in his arms. Gabe buried his face in Jack’s chest. He combed back the sweat-soaked curls out of the handsome face. “You’re not any of those things. Just rest. You’ll feel better soon.” 

 

“Don’t,” Gabe mumbled. 

 

“Don’t what?” 

 

“Don’t do this,” Gabe said, sounding choked. “Don’t be kind to me. If you do, I’ll start thinking there's something between us again and I can’t take it. I can’t live with losing you again.” 

 

“I’ve always cared about you.” 

 

“Then why did you leave?” Gabe whispered. 

 

Jack’s fingers paused. “I wanted you to be happy,” he said. Slowly, he massaged Gabe’s scalp. “You wanted to be Strike-Commander. I wanted a farm and a family. If I stayed, I knew I’d end up going along with you until the end. Maybe we never would have left, or left in coffins. But, if I asked you to retire with me, I’d be asking you to give up your dream.”

 

Gabe groaned and shook his head.

 

“And even if I did ask,” Jack went on, “you’d always be watching the horizon. You’d be watching the news every night. It wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t hold onto you. You want to help, that’s who you are. I couldn’t ask you to give up what you worked so hard for the moment you got it.” He sighed. “Figured… it’d be better for us to fulfill our own dreams alone.” 

 

Gabe reached up, putting his hand on Jack’s wrist. “ _ You _ were always my dream.” 

 

“Gabe….” Jack’s throat closed up. 

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

 

Jack leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to Gabe’s forehead. “I hurt you so much worse. I’m sorry.” 

 

Gabe squeezed his wrist. “For once in our lives, let’s not make this a competition.” 

 

Jack smiled. “Agreed.” 

 

They sat in silence for so long Jack thought Gabe had fallen asleep. 

 

“Are you going to tell Lena about me?”

 

“Not unless you ask me to.” 

 

Gabe hummed softly. After another moment; “Hold my hand?”

 

Jack reached down and interlaced the fingers of their left hands, resting them on his lap. 

 

Gabe turned his head, nuzzling into Jack’s chest. “If I….” Gabe’s voice broke. 

 

Jack massaged the curls again, letting his touch ease them both. 

 

“Would it….” Gabe’s breath hitched. “Could you find….” 

 

Jack trailed his hand down to Gabriel’s chin and tipped it up so they could look each other in the eye. “I will never kick you out of my life.” He placed another kiss on Gabe’s forehead. “And I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “Never.”

 

Gabe nodded once and then buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. He shook ever so slightly. Jack turned and kissed his cheek, rocking them back and forth until the shaking stopped. When he drew away, what he saw made him hold Gabe close once more and swear to never let go again.

 

Tears slid freely down Gabe’s cheeks. 

  
  


~

  
  


“I’m home!”

 

Lena kicked open the door before Jack could open it for her. She dumped her bags on the floor and tossed her arms around Jack’s neck. 

 

“It’s been too long, Pops!” 

 

Jack chuckled, picking up the beanpole-thin girl and swinging her around. “Too busy to visit anymore? Or do I just bore you to tears?” 

 

“Never,” Lena said as he set her back down. 

 

He looked her up and down. Too thin, as usual. “Do you even eat anymore, pumpkin?” 

 

“Nothing ever tastes as good as your cooking, Pops.” 

 

“Flatterer,” Jack teased.

 

Lena rubbed her hands together. “So! What needs tossin’?” 

 

“At least let me get your bags put away,” Jack said. “I’m not going to put you to work before we visit.” 

 

“Gotta earn my keep. Guest room?” 

 

“Spare room,” Jack corrected. 

 

Lena gasped, putting her hand over her heart. “I’m getting  _ downgraded? _ ” 

 

“Nothing like that, honey. I’m working on a project in the guest room.” 

 

“I’ll let it slide this time, but I’ll be having a word with my travel agent.” 

 

Jack chuckled as the picked up her bags and took them up to the spare room. After dropping them off and Lena was safely back downstairs, he cracked open the door to the guest room. Gabe dozed on the bed, looking at peace for the first time since he appeared. Jack closed the door softly and went back to Lena. 

 

“Alright. Point me at what you want me to toss. I’m starving for a Morrison Family Pecan Pie.” 

 

“Okay, okay,” Jack said, grinning. “Work first, play later.” He led her to the pantry in the kitchen and opened the door.

 

“Blimey,” Lena began. “Have you...What’s… I don’t even—” 

 

Jack handed her a quartet of bottles. “What you said on the phone the other night really got to me,” he said, taking out another pair of bottles. “I need to let go.” He set the bottles on the counter as Lena just kept staring at him. “I’ve been living in the past too long. I wanted to forget, but I shouldn’t. I have to let go of the bad and cherish the good. And it starts with this step.” 

 

“Jack….” Lena dumped the bottles on the counter and wrapped her arms around him again. “I know you’re hurting. I’m really proud of you.” 

 

Jack patted her hand. “Don’t say that just yet. This is only step one.”

 

“What’s step two?” 

 

“Burning all of this.”

 

Lena grinned. “Bonfire. Sounds fun. Then what?”

 

“Well… then you and I figure out a way to drag something big out of the back forty.” 

  
  


~

  
  


After Lena collapsed into bed, Jack took a plate of dinner up to the guest room. Gabe stood by the window. 

 

“You put it in the barn?” he asked when Jack closed the door. 

 

“The cows aren't happy about sleeping in the pasture, but it was the only place to keep it hidden. Lena put a call out to Jesse. He thinks he might be able to fly it to Angela over in Gibraltar. If we can get it patched up, that is.” He set the plate on the nightstand. “Jesse should be here in a few days. If you’re going to stick around.” 

 

Gabe cocked his head just the slightest bit toward Jack. 

 

“Both of them would really love to see you.” 

 

Gabe went back to looking out the window. “I know.” 

 

Jack went over to the window, standing beside his friend. “I want to say something, and I don’t want you to interrupt, okay?” 

 

Gabe nodded. 

 

“I was wrong before,” Jack began. “About our dreams.” 

 

Gabe glanced at him, puzzled look on his face.

 

“Maybe we could have made Strike-Commander and family work. But, I stand by what I said. You are who you are. You see things that are wrong, and you want to make them right, by whatever means necessary. I just want a simple life. And before, I didn’t see how we could make it work.” 

 

“But now you do?” Gabe asked. 

 

Jack nodded and came to stand before Gabe. “Nothing is ever going to change you. And that’s what I love about you.” He offered his hand. Gabe took it. “I’m not asking you to change. You’ve got a mission, and I won’t stand in the way. You’re doing what you need to do.” 

 

Gabe arched and eyebrow, waiting. 

 

“And I can’t change me. I’m tired of war, of conflict. All I want is to enjoy the life I fought so hard for. So, this is what I offer: My door is always open for you, Gabe. If you're tired, hurt, need to lay low, come here. I won’t ask questions, or make you stay if you need to go. And all I ask in return, this that you come to me when you need help, medical attention, or a shoulder to lean on.” 

 

Gabe squeezed Jack’s hand. “I promise.” 

 

Jack stepped closer, standing chest to chest with him. Slowly, he leaned in. Gabe closed his eyes. Jack kissed the corner of Gabe’s lips, keeping it soft and light. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

 

“With you,” Gabe whispered, “I will be.” He reached up, running his fingers through the hair by his ears. 

 

Jack put his hand over Gabe’s and leaned in again. Gabe met him halfway. Their lips met for the first time in so many years. Jack’s eyes closed as his heart fluttered. It felt like they were recruits again, not knowing if tomorrow would be their last, but like they could conquer anything together.

 

He couldn’t change the past, but he damn sure wasn’t going to let it ruin his future.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh thank god Gabe is okay! And Jack is starting his own healing. T_T thank god.


	8. Chapter Eight

 

 

Billions of stars glittered in the sky. Corn stalks rustled in the gentle breeze. The porch swing rocked back and forth. Jack leaned back, one leg up on the swing, one foot on the smooth wood of the porch. 

 

It was a lovely night. Peaceful. Quiet. Lonely. He lifted the glass of sweet tea and sipped. Lena had called a few weeks ago. She was still good, working a big collar. Jesse had managed to nurse the experimental plane all the way to Angela. She had been over the moon. He hadn’t heard anything from her since. 

 

Jesse had been eager get back to Japan. Jack had his notions about why. Winston was in some undisclosed location in Doctors Without Borders. Torby was with his family and kids. Ana and Fareeha were home in Egypt, rallying the troops. Who knew where Reinhardt was. Probably locked himself in an engineering bunker working.

 

Jack sighed and watched the stars. It was getting late in the season. Harvest time was closing in. Hopefully winter would be slow and give him some time to work on projects. 

 

But he still hadn’t heard from Gabe. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. He’d given Gabe that freedom. He took another sip of tea before setting it aside. He pushed his foot against the porch and sent the swing rocking back and forth. He didn’t doubt Gabe would be back, but it killed him not to know if he was okay. Was he eating better? Taking care of himself? Was he warm enough? Have a safe place to sleep?

 

The old wood creaked. Jack put his arms up on the back, trying to enjoy the cool evening. A shooting star zipped across the sky. He couldn’t ask for a more perfect night. Well, as perfect as the night could be without the love of his life beside him.

 

He was just about to turn in when something moved along the fence down the road. Jack cocked his head as the shadow steadily worked its way closer. The soft crunch of gravel soon accompanied the figure. Well, it wasn’t an intruder. A guest then? Some moonlight would have been nice to see who it was, but it wasn’t until the figure walked up the front steps that he could see who it was. 

 

“Reaper is dead,” Gabe said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Strike-Commander Reyes is dead.” 

 

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Guess you’re just Gabe now.” 

 

He nodded. “Could I….” 

 

Jack patted the seat beside him. Gabe took his hands out of his pockets and sat down beside him. Jack put his arm around Gabe’s shoulders. 

 

“Beautiful night,” Gabe said. “Peaceful.” 

 

“Very,” Jack agreed. “Better now with good company.”

 

They sat on the swing in silence for a while. Slowly, Gabe laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack rested his head against Gabe’s. 

 

“This might be a longer stay.” 

 

“Oh?” Jack asked, doing his best to stifle a yawn. “How long?”

 

“I was thinking… until death do us part.” 

 

A grin spread across Jack’s face. “I think that’s doable. Have to make up the spare bedroom for you.” 

 

Gabe scoffed and play slapped Jack’s chest. “A downgrade? Really?” 

 

“Hey, the guest room is for short term stays. Besides, you might be able to work your way up to the master bedroom.” 

 

Gabe turned his head, planting a soft kiss on Jack’s cheek. “I’ll do my best to earn my way back.”

 

Jack pulled Gabe closer as they snuggled together for warmth. “Welcome home.” 

 

 

_ The End _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TT_TT The boys are finally together after all the misunderstandings. *gross sobbing* 
> 
> I do hope you all enjoyed this (short??) ride, and thank you all for your wonderful comments and reactions, and tears. As a writer, I live for those moments of connection. Thank you all!
> 
> (And you maaaaaaay want to keep tabs on this story.... there might be something a little steamy in the works for an epilogue.....)


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised steamy epilogue.
> 
> Now with art by the amazing Annie_Drew! https://animegirldrawer.tumblr.com/post/180339793203/just-had-to-doodle-from-the-latest-simple-life

Epilogue

 

Some Weeks Later

The late fall heatwave settled on the farm like a blanket. A weak breeze did little to alleviate the hellish temperature, and even the large glass of sweet tea in Gabe’s hand barely picked up the slack. Under normal circumstances it would have kept him cool, but Gabe’s temperature kept rising. And he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t moving from this spot leaning against the porch banister until he was struck dead. The view was to die for.

Someone—probably Bonita, the little trickster—had decided she wanted to make a new gate in the pasture fence. Which meant it needed to be repaired. Jack grunted as he ripped the old, broken post out of the ground with his bare hands.

Gabe took a sip of tea and shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. Jack casually tossed what was probably a seventy pound pole aside like it was nothing. His naked back muscles rippled with the effort, shoulder blades flexing. Gabe took another, longer sip of tea.

Jack turned as he lifted his arm, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Gabe nearly had a heart attack. Jack’s bulging chest muscles glistened with sweat, his ripped abs were perfectly defined as if they’d been photoshopped. The old, worn jeans hung low on his hips, a bit of the elastic band of his black boxers peaked out. Gabe took another drink of tea, eyes following the golden hair over the perfect swells of Jack’s chest, down to the trail of hair that stopped at the top of the jeans, but continued on much lower.

Jack surveyed the pasture for a moment, then bent down. His ass filled out the back of the jeans just like it did in all Gabe’s memories of their younger days. Oh it was a very nice view from here on the porch. Jack stood up, new pole in hand and— with a grunt that Gabe remembered from their more racy memories— thrust it into the ground, again, barehanded. He twisted the pole, rocking it back and forth for a second. It must have met his approval because he picked up the spool of wire and restrung the newly mended fence.

If this was what farm life was like, Gabe would never scoff at country music again. Yee haw.

Something must have given him away, because Jack turned and looked right at the house. Gabe took yet another sip of tea as Jack put his hands on his hips, chest on display, abs rippling, looking like a Harvest Festival wet dream. He strutted toward the house, hips swaying, jeans bunching at the very best places to draw the eye down below the big belt buckle. Gabe went for another gulp of tea and found the glass drained.

Jack stopped in front of Gabe where the house offered a scant amount of shade. He waved a hand at Gabe’s glass. “Good tea?”

“Thirsty as hell,” Gabe said, already feeling himself get hot again.

“Not usually this hot,” Jack said.

“Find that hard to believe.”

“October usually cools off. If it keeps up, harvest is going to be brutal.”

If the heat kept up, Gabe was going to die of sweaty Jack induced fantasies.

“Your side still doing okay?” Jack asked.

“Never better,” Gabe said. He really had to get out of the immediate vicinity of Jack’s perfect pecs before Gabe needed to adjust himself. “Want some tea?”

“Sounds perfect. Extra ice.”

“You got it, soldier.”

Jack smiled, making Gabe’s temperature skyrocket.

“I gotta get some things out of the barn. If you can brave the evil sun—”

“Of the two of us,” Gabe snipped, “who here is a gorgeous bronze and who’s mayo white with a sunburn?”

Jack’s grin didn’t fade. “Not a spot of red on me.”

Damn him, Jack was right. Those beads of sweat were slowly trailing down healthy, tanned skin. “Just don’t forget to reapply your sunscreen, gringo.” Gabe turned and walked quickly— not fled— back into the house.

He went to the kitchen, found the biggest glass Jack owned and filled it with ice. He opened the fridge and took out the jug of sweet tea and set it on the counter. He went to the sink and turned on the water, splashing his face a few times before turning it off.

“Get your head on straight, Reyes,” he grumbled to himself.

It had been a few weeks since he’d ended his former life and came to start a new one with Jack. He wished it would be as easy as “and they lived happily ever after,” but nothing was so simple. They’d been apart twenty years. They might have well have been strangers. They had yet to touch each other in any way more intimate than a brush of fingers. Hell, Gabe was still living out of the spare room. And here he was, lusting after Jack like a horny teen.

“Pull yourself together,” Gabe chastised himself.

He pictured Jack in the barn, bent over a tractor. Gabe’s already troublesome dick chubbed up at the image of Jack covered in black oil and white—

“None of that,” he growled, reaching down and adjusting himself so hopefully Jack wouldn’t notice the raging boner Gabe couldn’t seem to get rid of.

At least he could still get aroused. The last decade he’d thought—didn’t matter. The hard dick in his pants proved his misgivings wrong, and at the worst possible time. He fixed himself as best he could, filled Jack’s glass with tea, and headed back out into the heat.

The sun was trying to kill them all, no doubt about that. The moment Gabe stepped out of the shade, the heat strangled him while the humidity sucker punched him in the lungs. LA could get hot as balls, but it had nothing on this. And Jack had the nerve to claim it snowed here. Lying prick.

Somehow, he made it to the barn with his life, if a few pounds lighter of water stolen directly out of his body. It was refreshingly cool inside courtesy of a few ceiling fans.

“Damn, you really spoil your cows,” Gabe said. “Think it’s cooler in here than in the house.”

“Yep,” Jack’s voice said from deeper in the barn. “It has to be.”

“Cows write letters of complaint if you don’t keep them at a balmy seventy-six degrees?”

“They give less milk if it’s too hot,” Jack corrected, coming out of a small supply room. “And I trade milk for stuff I need. Less milk, less stuff.”

Jack was still shirtless, but now, in the cool barn, his nipples were tight and perky, looking delicious and in need of something to warm them up. Fuck. This keeping his mind out of the gutter wasn’t working. He shoved the tea at Jack before he could come any closer.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” If Jack noticed Gabe acting off, he didn’t mention it.

Jack pressed the glass to his lips and lifted it. He gulped down the tea, apple’s apple bobbing. A drop escaped, rolling down the corner of Jack’s lips and off his chin, splattering on his right pec. Gabe bit his lower lip, wanting nothing more than to lean in and lick the little drop of sugar off the salty skin. Jack finished the whole glass and pulled it away with a satisfied sigh.

“Good?” Gabe asked, surprised his voice didn’t crack.

Jack’s half-lidded eyes turned to him. “You’re not the only one who’s thirsty.”

That look went right to Gabe’s cock. He had to escape, now. “I’ll take that back to the kitchen and get started on lunch.” He reached for the empty glass.

Jack put a gentle hand on Gabe’s wrist. “Wait.”

Gabe stopped, looking down and to the side. If he looked at Jack, all he would think about would be the drop on his chest, or how his lips must taste sweet after the tea.

“If you believe you’re hiding that monster erection, you must think I’m blind.”

Fuck. “It’s my problem,” Gabe muttered, feeling like a teen being caught masturbating. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Jack’s hand dropped away and he looked like he’d been slapped. Oh. Fuck. Gabe always seemed to find the best way to ruin everything.

“I didn’t mean— It’s just that it doesn’t have to if you don’t—” Fuck. “I’m not going to do anything with it. Just… pretend like this never happened and we can go back to getting comfortable with each other again.”

Jack actually smiled at him. “Gabe, you do realize we were sexual partners for nearly fifteen years, right?”

“With a twenty year gap,” Gabe reminded him. As if either of them needed to be reminded. He winced at his own words.

Jack didn’t. “I’m flattered that after all this time, I still excite you.”

Gabe shifted from foot to foot. “You’re the only one,” he mumbled.

Jack cupped Gabe’s jaw and turned his face so they could lock eyes.

“You want to fool around?” Jack asked with a grin.

Gabe opened his mouth, then closed it. “Fuck, Jack, after everything and you still want—”

“You? Yes. I never stopped wanting you.” He leaned in and softly kissed Gabe’s cheek. “I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, I loved you too much.” His hand drifted down Gabe’s neck, over his chest. “And I’ve waited a long time to have you in my arms again.”

Shit, shit. “I….”

Jack stopped, setting the glass down before taking Gabe’s hands in his. “What is it?”

“I don’t know if I can anymore,” Gabe said. It all started to pour out of his mouth. “After you left, I didn’t… I didn’t have any drive. Thought I was depressed, but it just never came back. It didn’t matter, I didn’t want anyone else anyways. But the last few years I couldn’t keep it up, not even when—” He closed his mouth to keep at least a crumb of his pride intact.

Jack wrapped his arms around Gabe’s neck and pulled him into a hug. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Erectile dysfunction happens. The emotional stress of a breakup, our age, hell, the fucking crushing weight of being Strike-Commander, it took its toll on you.

Gabe nuzzled into Jack’s scorching hot warmth, soaking up the contact like the world’s most desperate sponge.

“I’ve missed you, Gabe,” Jack said. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable getting frisky.”

“Even after all my shit, you want me?”

Jack chuckled, reaching down and running his fingers along the still stiff bulge in Gabe’s pants. “I could never keep my hands off you, even when I tried.”

Gabe turned his head and brought their lips together. They were sweeter than the tea. Jack met him, tongues tangling together, rolling over one another, rediscovering. Jack pulled away after a long moment. He took a step back, lightly tugging Gabe’s hands. Gabe followed him without a word, powerless to resist.

Jack headed to a ladder, gave Gabe a wink over his shoulder, then climbed up. Gabe starred up after him. Jesus, what the hell was he thinking?

“You scared?” came Jack’s voice.

Gabe was up the ladder before Jack finished his laugh. He didn’t know what awaited him, but Jack did not just get to call him a chicken and get away with it. A fan turned lazily in the loft of the barn, keeping it supplied with a nice breeze. Though it only looked like there was hay up here, so what hay needed to be kept cool for, Gabe couldn’t say.

Jack kicked off his boots and sat down, patting the hay next to him. Gabe joined him, shucking off his boots, fidgeting like some nervous teen. Jack put his arms on his knees, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on Gabe’s ear.

“Will you let me take care of you?” he asked.

Gabe nodded. Jack nibbled on Gabe’s earlobe the way that made his toes flex and curl.

“Anything, and I mean anything at all, bothers you, say stop. Promise me.”

Gabe nodded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I promise I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable.” The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Jack. “Don’t think I’ll be able to satisfy you like I used to.” Or at all maybe.

“That’s fine. This isn’t about that.” Gently, he put his hand on Gabe’s chest and pushed.

Gabe went back willingly into the hay. It was a little scratchy, but comfortable. He let out a breath, then nodded. Jack’s hand trailed down his chest, rubbing up and down. The touch was soothing. God, Gabe had missed Jack’s touch. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft caresses.

Jack’s fingers dipped under the hem of his shirt and paused, a silent request for permission. Gabe nodded. The rough, callused fingers skimmed along his skin. Gabe bit his lip as the fingertips trailed along his abs, then his chest. Carefully, they circled around a nipple. Gabe let out a groan before he could stop himself.

“Feel good?” Jack asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Yeah,” Gabe sighed as the fingers rolled his nipple around before moving to the other.

“Take off your shirt?”

Gabe couldn’t strip fast enough. It was tossed— somewhere, he didn’t care. Jack laid him back down again, then straddled Gabe’s hips. He stared up at Jack, watching as the love of his life leaned down, pressing feather light kisses to his collarbones, one after the other, before dipping down to his pecs. A hot tongue swirled around his nipples, making him suck in a breath. His cock liked that and pressed against his fly, trying to escape. Jack’s hands cupped both his pecs and squeezed.

“Fuck!” Gabe wheezed, legs shifting, cock throbbing. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Jack chuckled, mouth moving lower, tongue flicking along his abs in a way that somehow tickled and aroused at the same time. Jack’s hands unbuttoned and unzipped Gabe’s pants. Gabe froze. Jack stopped.

Gabe took a breath. “I don’t want to disappoint you if I can’t—”

“Shh,” Jack soothed. “You said I could take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Gabe put his head back. “Okay… just… I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

Jack carefully extracted Gabe’s cock before sliding his underwear and pants down. He tugged them off and tossed them aside. Naked in the hay, Gabe sucked in a breath as the breeze hit his sweaty skin and made him shiver. Jack kissed the healing wound where he’d extracted an inch of a knife from Gabe’s rib not long ago. From there, he ran his tongue along one of the burns from the Zurich explosion, then kissed the jagged, old scar from a SEP training mission gone wrong. Gabe turned his face to the side, breath hard to catch as he realized Jack was mapping the scars, almost worshiping them like he used to.

The warm lips and hot mouth followed the trail of earned imperfections down his body. Gabe stuffed a fist into his mouth as Jack’s lips kissed the head of his cock. The kisses stayed featherlight, innocent and teasing. Gabe panted, wondering when Jack was going to take it into his mouth and kill him outright. But the kisses didn’t stop. They kept drifting down to his balls, and then further.

“Fuck! Shit!” Gabe swore as Jack lips kissed the tight pucker of his hole.

The kisses hesitated. Gabe reached down, tangling his fingers into Jack’s hair.

“Don’t stop,” Gabe huffed.

“Spread your legs more.”

The words spoken against such sensitive skin nearly made Gabe explode. He moaned, letting his knees fall open. Jack nuzzled forward, licking and kissing before his tongue wiggled its way inside of Gabe. He nearly choked on his own tongue.

“Jack!” he gasped, fingers kneading the golden hair. “Oh fuck, fucking hell!” He could feel Jack smiling against him. “Shit!”

The lapping and wiggling continued for an eternity. Gabe gasped for air, sure he was falling apart. The sinful tongue finally withdrew and Jack came up for a breath. Before Gabe could even start to miss the sensation, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube, flicking open the cap.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Jack said, coating his first two fingers in lube. “You standing there on the porch, hotter than hell in July, wearing my old shirt and jeans with a fucking monster in your pants as you watched me work.” Jack’s fingers circled Gabe’s hole. “I had to get you naked.”

“Shit,” Gabe breathed, fisting the hay as Jack gently pushed inside. The finger filled him better than the tongue.

“I came in here to get some lube because if you weren’t going to jump my ass, I was sure as hell going to jump yours.”

The finger wiggled deeper, down to the knuckle. Gabe huffed, crushing the hay in his iron grip.

“God, Gabe, I can never look at you enough, you’re a work of art.”

Gabe managed a disbelieving snort that mercifully didn’t turn into a desperate moan. “Yeah, a fucked up Picasso.”

Jack smiled. “A masterpiece. And only I get to see you on display like this.”

Gabe grunted. Jack’s praise felt… wrong after everything. Gabe didn’t deserve it.

The finger curled, stroking him. Gabe choked on air and arched his back.

“I saw you on the porch, watching me, wanting me, and goddamn, that was hot. I had to have you, right then, on the damn front porch if I had to.” He slid another finger into Gabe alongside the first. “I want you, Gabriel Reyes, more than I could ever make clear with words. I want you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t deserve you,” Gabe panted. He reached up, running his fingers through the pale-gold fuzz on Jack’s chest. Fuck, Jack had the perfect amount of chest hair to drive him crazy. “You are too good for me.”

“Mm, you say that, but you know I can be a bad, bad boy.” Jack leaned down, sweeping his tongue along Gabe’s lips before diving past them.

Gabe moaned into Jack’s mouth, chasing that wicked tongue and wanting more. A third lubed finger pressed into him.

“You really are tight,” Jack murmured, working Gabe open maddeningly slow.

God, it had been so long. “Haven’t had anyone but you,” Gabe managed to grunt as the fingers scissored back and forth inside of him.

The fingers slowed. Jack blinked, staring down at him. “You haven’t?”

Gabe huffed, rolling his eyes. Jack always knew how to ruin a moment. “I just told you I couldn’t get it up for the last seven years.” What a fucking mood killer.

“But didn’t you ever date again? Kiss someone?”

“No.” Why would he? “Did you?”

A smile flickered across Jack’s face. “I tried. All I could do was compare them to you and no one ever came close. You are the one for me, Gabe. The only one.”

Gabe wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him down into another kiss. Jack knew how to save the moment. “Fuck me,” Gabe gasped against Jack’s lips. “Please, Jack. I need you.”

“Shh,” Jack soothed. “You’re not ready yet.”

“Fuck ready and fuck me already!”

“Gabriel,” Jack mock chastised. “I’m not going to hurt you and cut short our fun.”

Gabe arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Jack twisted his fingers and spread them, making Gabe suck in a lungful of air. “It’s been weeks of watching you, giving you your space. But I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore. I need you, Gabriel. I need you until neither of us can move.”

Gabe licked his wet, kiss swollen lips. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Jack’s pupils dilated as his nostrils flared. Jack was so hot when he was horny. Gabe pawed at Jack’s belt, desperate.

“Easy,” Jack hissed as Gabe tore off the belt and tossed it.

Fuck that. Gabe tore open Jack’s pants and was greeted with a thick, heavy cock standing at attention. Jack’s dick was just as big and juicy as he remembered. He ran a hand lovingly down the girthy cock, watching as Jack shivered.

“I’m not the only one hiding a monster in his pants,” Gabe purred.

“Might be too tight a fit,” Jack managed to gasp. “Might blow with one stroke.”

“Don’t care,” Gabe said, stroking his hand up and down.“As long as you're inside me. Lube.”

Jack pulled the lube out of his pants pocket, then shimmied out of his jeans and underwear, kicking them aside. He opened the lube again, squeezing some into Gabe’s waiting hand. Gabe rubbed his hands together, warming it up before wrapping his hands around Jack’s cock. His hiss turned into a moan as the lube warmed. Gabe made sure to slather Jack generously, making sure the thick crown had plenty to slick the way for the rest.

“Gabe,” Jack gasped. “If you don’t want me cumming all over your hand, you need to stop.”

Gabe chuckled. “Used to be we could do foreplay for hours.”

“Gotta work back up to that.”

Gabe rolled over, lifting his ass.

“No.” Jack rolled Gabe onto his back. “Face to face.”

Gabe’s breath came faster. They used to do face to face when they had the time to take their time. When they wanted it to last and not just something hard and fast in a foxhole or between one of the endless meetings. Jack cupped Gabe’s face, smiling like Gabe was the most precious thing in his life.

“I love watching you,” he whispered. “But just say the word if it’s too much.”

Gabe forced the words past the tightness in his throat. “I love watching you too.”

Jack took his cock in hand, guiding it between Gabe’s legs. “Say stop whenever you need.”

Gabe growled. “I swear to God if you don’t stick that dick inside of me I’m going to do it myself!”

Jack chuckled, fond smile on his face, blush making his faded freckles stand out. Before Gabe could make his demand again, Jack pressed forward. The head of his cock pressed against Gabe’s entrance, stretching it wide. Gabe grabbed Jack’s shoulders, fingers digging into the strong muscles. He breathed, trying to make himself relax enough to allow Jack in.

Warm lips kissed his ear. “Easy, Gabe, easy. It’s okay. We have all the time in the world. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gabe flexed his fingers, closing his eyes. Sex was like riding a bike, he’d get the hang of it again. Jack kept murmuring soft words of praise and encouragement. After a moment, the tight ring of muscle loosened enough. The thick head penetrated him. Gabe choked on the pleasure.

“Oh, Gabe,” Jack moaned. “So good. Thank you for letting me in.”

It was just the head, but Gabe felt speared open. His nails dug into Jack as he tried to adjust.

“Shh.” Jack kissed Gabe’s gasping lips. “You’re tight, let yourself relax.”

“Don’t want to relax,” Gabe grunted. He wanted what they had before, hot, sweaty, mind blowing sex that lasted for hours.

One of Jack’s hands slid down, dipping behind him to massage the small of Gabe’s back. Gabe groaned, lifting his hips. A little more of Jack’s cock slid inside of him.

“That’s it,” Jack praised, stroking Gabe’s back, loosening him up more. The cock pressed another inch deeper. “That’s it. Relax. I have you. So good, you’re so good.”

“Fuck,” Gabe moaned, taking in another inch. “How big are you?”

Jack chuckled, kissing Gabe’s lips. “Big enough to drive you crazy.”

“You already are!”

“You ready for more?”

Gabe nodded. “I want all of you damn it.”

“Almost there.” Jack stretched him wider.

Gabe’s nails might have broken Jack’s skin. “Come on! Fill me.”

Jack pushed again, and then their hips slotted together. Gabe let his head fall back into the hay as he breathed. Jack had stuffed him to the brim. There wasn’t any room to spare, he was so big, he might just be stuck. Gabe’s breath came faster as his thoughts spiraled.

“Hey, hey,” Jack said, “come back to me.”

“What if you can’t move?” Gabe demanded. He had never been a good bottom, Jack didn’t have to say it for Gabe to know it. He was too bossy, too headstrong. “What if I’m a fucking awful—”

Jack’s lips descended on his own, silencing him. Jack licked into his mouth, tongue sliding along tongue until Gabe’s thoughts dissolved into little more than lust soup.

“You are not awful,” Jack assured him. “Just out of practice. And so am I. We’ll be rusty together.” He tapped Gabe’s leg, guiding it up around his waist.

Gabe wrapped both legs around Jack. The new position eased some of the pressure. He let his head fall back again and just feel. He was pleasantly full now that the initial discomfort had passed. Jack’s girth stretched him perfectly. “You feel good.”

“You too.” Jack kissed his lips. “Ready for me to move?”

Gabe sighed, enjoying the feeling a moment more before he nodded. “Slowly.”

Jack shifted his hips back, dragging his cock out. Gabe whined, clenching around him, wanting to stay full. Jack let out a strangled groan, then pushed back in. Gabe was forced open again, Jack’s head pressing all the right places that made spots dance in front of Gabe’s eyes.

“Yes!” Gabe hissed. He lifted his hips, tightening his legs around Jack’s waist. “Fuck me.”

“That’s the idea.” Jack dipped his head as he pulled back, thrusting back in.

Gabe rocked in time with the stroke, pulling Jack in. The thick head nudged deeper. “More,” Gabe demanded as Jack thrust again. “Deeper.”

Jack’s teeth scraped lightly along Gabe’s throat before his lips latched on to the skin and sucked. He pulled out further before snapping his hips forward. The fat head brushed the deep bundle of nerves. Gabe gasped.

“There!”

Jack’s next stroke was shallow, nowhere near where it needed to be. Gabe snarled, raking his fingers down Jack’s shoulder blades. Jack let out a low moan as his cock throbbed, leaving precum behind to help slick the way.

Gabe tightened his legs and lifted his hips, frocing Jack deep inside of him. The head brushed his prostate again, making a fucking whine tear out of Gabe’s throat. “Jack!”

Jack hunched over, one arm buried in the hay, holding him up, the other wrapped around Gabe’s throbbing dick. He pumped in time with his thrusts. Gabe lost all ability to think.

“Jack! Fuck! Jack!” Gabe scrambled for purchase as every stroke pulled him apart. He babbled, kissing Jack’s gasping mouth. “Don’t deserve you, fuck, need you, god don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, please!” Pressure built in his gut. “So close, fuck, I’m so close. Please Jack, a little more! Goddamn feels so good!”

Jack’s mouth closed on Gabe’s earlobe, giving it a tug. Gabe nearly blew his load. The soft lips fluttered against his ear as they rocked back and forth.

“Gabriel,” Jack whispered, his voice soft and filled with awe. “Gabriel… I love you so much.”

Jack squeezed Gabe’s cock at the same time he thrust deep inside of him. The fat head struck Gabe’s sweet spot, once, twice, and then Gabe’s world exploded. His vision went white as pure ecstacy cascaded through him. He heard screaming, but didn’t care whose it was. Warmth splattered against his belly and chest, and flooded inside of him, filling him to bursting. His back bowed, the pleasure too much to take, and—

Everything felt light and loose and warm. Gabe hummed softly, shifting. The weight on his chest grunted, then a warm tongue lapped at one of his nipples. Something inside Gabe shifted, making a dull zing of pleasure shoot up his spine. Finally, he cracked his eyes open. Jack was sprawled on top of him, sucking a nipple with a happy, dazed expression that would have been dorky if Gabe wasn’t a hundred percent sure he had that exact same look on his own face right now.

“Still have an oral fixation I see.” He reached up, running his fingers through Jack’s hair.

Jack wrapped his lips around the dark brown nub and gently pulled. A less dull zing of pleasure shot down to Gabe’s cock. Jack let the nipple go, resting his chin on Gabe’s sternum.

“Still have all the kinks you gave me,” Jack said, doofus grin still plastered to his face.

“Good.” Gabe smiled. He planned to explore them all over again.

Jack nuzzled up under Gabe’s chin, kissing and sucking every inch of skin. “Think the ED was emotionally linked,” he said. “You just needed the right emotionally linked stimulation”

“Just needed you,” Gabe hummed. “I can only get off with you. You came, right?”

Jack chuckled, shifting his hips. “Can’t you feel it?”

Gabe licked his lips as a bit of cum dribbled out of his still stuffed hole. Fuck… it’d been so long since he’d had Jack’s load inside of him. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling.

“Someone still has all his kinks too,” Jack said.

“I need to bottom more often,” Gabe mused. His bossy, must-be-in-charge days were over.

Jack frowned. “Are we going to have to fight over who gets to bottom? Because you know how much I love you inside of me.”

Jack never had any hang ups about his own position preferences. That had always been Gabe’s issue. One he was going to work on. He pouted, sticking out his lower lip.

“But I’m still recovering. Please be the big strong top for me?”

Jack wheezed with laugher. He rested his cheek on Gabe’s chest. “Okay, okay. You know I can never resist your puppy eyes.”

Gabe reached up, carding his fingers through Jack’s hair. “I love you,” he whispered.

Jack kissed Gabe’s niple again. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that, cooling off in the hay. Gabe closed his eyes. How could have ever picked a life beyond a simple one as Jack’s husband? That’s all he ever wanted. Jack pushed himself up.

“Come on, we should get cleaned up before everything dries.” He pulled out.

Gabe groaned, clenching closed to trying to keep Jack’s load inside. Some still leaked out. “Don’t want to move. I don’t think I can walk.”

“Yes you can,” Jack said, taking Gabe’s hand and helping him to his feet.

Gabe groaned and rubbed the small of his back that ached from a good fuck and stung from countless scratches from the hay. “Where are my clothes?”

Jack smiled wickedly. “You know the best part of living on a small farm miles away from the closet neighbor? You can walk around buck naked.”

Gabe shot Jack a scandalized look. “I’m not an animal,” he insisted. “I’m not walking back to the house nude.”

Jack shrugged, sauntering off and climbing down the ladder with his dick hanging out. At the bottom, he stooped, and held up Gabe’s pants. “Looks like you’re going in your birthday suit.” He tossed the pants and boxers across his shoulders and sauntered toward the door.

Gabe sputtered, not sure how to process or what the hell to process first. “Jack! Give me back my pants!”

Jack turned and crooked a come-hither finger at him. Gabe seethed, scrambling down the latter, dick swinging, cum dribbling down his thighs. If anyone saw him like this—

“I’m going to kill you!”

Jack only laughed. Gabe hurried after him, blush burning up his face as the sun burned up the rest of him. He raced to the shade of the wrap around porch and caught up with Jack. He grabbed for his clothes, but Jack caught his hand and pulled him to his chest, kissing him. Gabe melted into it, letting Jack ravage his mouth. Jack pressed Gabe’s back to the wall, devouring every moan and sigh like they were fine wine. Finally, after Gabe was sure his lips would fall off if they kissed another moment, Jack pulled away.

“I have twenty years to make up to you,” he said, resting their foreheads together. “So we both might as well get used to not wearing clothes for the time being.”

Gabe’s cock throbbed, happily chubbing up with no restrictive pants to get in its way. Jack grinned, sliding his own growing dick against Gabe’s and taking them both in hand, stroking them slowly. Gabe groaned as his cock swelled in Jack’s capable hand. He slid his hands through the fuzzy chest hair, then took Jack’s nipples in hand, pinching and rolling them. Jack sucked in a breath, his cock twitching and drooling precum all over Gabe’s.

“Well,” Gabe purred, tweaking Jack’s nipples again, getting another moan out of him. “I have twenty years to make up to you. We’re going to turn this place into a fuck farm.”

Jack grinned, pressing a rough kiss to Gabe’s lips. “Get your ass up to my bed before I fuck you right here on the porch for all the animals to see.”

Gabe moaned long and low, earning him another throb of Jack’s cock against his own. “Yes, Farmer Morrison.”

They didn’t make it to Jack’s bed for another hour.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. 
> 
>  
> 
> And they fucked happily ever after. :D 
> 
>  
> 
> I have one more short story planned for next Sunday (starring Ashe, my new main) And then I'll be taking a short break where I won't be posting anything... then back to Drift! Oh boy is there A LOT going on in this act. I hope ya'll are ready!


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